
Book .G^_7._ 




J. M. GREENE. 



Prose and Verse. 



BY 

REV. J. M. GREENE. A.M. 



ATLANTA, GA. 
The Franklin Prtg. and Pub. Co. 

1 901. 



COPYRIGHTKD. 

'or 



|)qbicnliom 



TO 

MRS. MARY S. COLQUITT GREENE, 

aHY LOVING WIFIC AND PArTUKPL UELPMICI-: T THROUGH Ahh 

THE YEARS OP A LONG WEJ)I)EI) LIFE, AND TO WHOSE 

LITERARY APPRECIATION AND JOINT LABOR 

IT OWES ITS EXISTENCE, THIS HOOK 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 

THE AUTHOR 




MRS. J. M. GREENE. 



PREFACE. 



In the Feast of the Boughs which the ancient Athenians 
annually observed as having been instituted by their king 
Theseus in celebration of his vows to Apollo for his safe re- 
turn from his expedition against the Cretans, they carried 
in the sacred procession a branch bound with wool, which 
was laden with all good fruits, and called Eurosyne. As 
they marched, they sang the strain : 

The golden ear, the ambrosial hive, 
In fair Eurosyne thrive. 
See the juicy figs appear! 
Olives crown the wealthy j-ear! 
See the cluster-bending vine! 
See, drink, and drop supine! 

The author trusts that this volume of Prose and Verse, 
which he offers to the public, like that ancient sacred sym- 
bol, may be laden with the riches of language, thoughts, fan- 
cies, sentiments and fruits of knowledge, as gathered from 
the field of literature, that will afford to its readers an intel- 
lectual feast that will regale the taste and delight the mind. 
He indulges the hope that it will bring pleasure to the reader 
of classic taste, inspire the young minds of the South with 
love of their own fair land, and awaken in them a noble 
ambition for honor and virtue, and to be worthy of their 
ancestral renown and rich heritage of the South. 

In the selection of the writers, orators and statesmen for 
the notice of the pen, from the roll of the eminent sons and 
daughters of the South, strict chronological order has not 
been observed, but they were chosen as familiar knowledge, 
fancy, personal admiration or friendship might dictate. Nor 
has minute biographical details been followed- such as when 
and where they were born, when died, and all the turns of 
fortune with them. They lived in thoughts and deeds of 
the mind, and their lives are not to be measured by the fig- 



VI Preface. 

ures set on the dial-plate of time in the dates of birth and 
death, but in the immortal instruction and inspiration they 
gave to mankind. 

The authors, orators and statesmen, the subjects of es- 
say, are but few in number as compared with the shining 
throng that by their genius, eloquence and wisdom adorned 
the annals of the South in literature, oratory and states- 
manship during the past century. Among those who shine 
in glorious beauty in the literary firmament of the South as 
bards of song, may be mentioned George D. Prentice, Ed- 
gar A. Poe, Paul Hayne, Henry Timrod, Father Ryan, Sid- 
ney Lanier, Eugene Field and John Esten Cooke. And not 
only these, but many others of melodious strain with a score 
or more of female writers of prose and verse, and a long- 
list of orators of dulcet tongue and statesmen of brilliant 
talent. 

The Essays may be considered eulogies rather than 
sketches of life and character and reviews of the technical 
critic in literature, and not to have- added anything to the 
greatness and glory of their sul^jects. Let this be so. The 
author rejoices that it has been his task to bring forward 
to notice some whose lives and writings have been un- 
chronicled, to reinsculp the names of others on the tablet 
of time, and with loving hand to lay a fresh garland of 
honor upon their cenotaphs in the field of letters and to 
hold up all to the cherished remembrance due them from the 
South. The Author. 



CONTENTS. 



THE SOUTH: ITS POLITICAL, LITERARY AND THEOLOG- 
ICAL WRITERS, ORATORS AND STATESMEN. 

Page 

Southern Literature — Introduction ] 

Thomas Jefferson 12 

James Madison i:s 

Jam^^s Monroe 3-i 

George Washington 87 

Patricia Henry 3s 

George Y. Ma^on .' 39 

William Henry Wirt 4U 

John C. Calhoun 41 

Henry Clay 47 

Robert H. Toombs 55 

Alexander H. Stephens (il 

Benjamin Harvey Hill 70 

Walter T. Colquitt 70 

William L. Yancey 7S 

Henry W. Hilliard 82 

Augustus B. Longstreet SO 

George F. Pierce 97 

Alexander Means 102 

Alexander B. Meek lO^ 

Daniel A. Chandler 108 

Henry R. Jackson 110 

Weems, or " Peter Horry " ]]2 

William (iilniore Simms iKi 

Thomas M. Norwood llii 

Miss Penina ]\Ioise 138 

Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz 140 

Mrs. Amelia P.. Welby • 142 

]\Irs. Augusta J. Wilson . 144 

-Mrs. Loula Kendall Rogers 153 

jMndiime Le Vert 1G4 



VIII Contexts. 

ESSAYS AND ADDRESSES. 

Pape 

My First Schoolmaster and Early School Days 1G9 

Tlie Prophet of the Confederacy 189 

Sketches of Texas L.G 

A Historical Etchinj^ — Tlie Hero of San Jacinto 206 

General P. G. T. Beauregard 2:J0 

Texas Talent ^ 236, 

Poetry, etc 230 

Young ^Fen r.s\ Old Men 240 

Pulpit Oratory— No. 1 244 

Pulpit Oratory— No. 2 246 

Pulpit Oratory— No. 3 248 

Pulpit Oratory— No. 4 2oi 

Pulpit Oratory — No. 5 254 

Pulpit Oratory— No. 6 2r,f) 

Literary Criticism from Perseus Flaccus— Satire 1 2()(1 

Literary Criticism from Juvenal — Satire L . 263 

Poetical Contributions 2(i7 

Obituaries 271 

Character-Building 27o 

The South 282 

Reminiscences of the War 291 

" Praying for All that are in Aulliority " 311 

VERSE. 

Introduction — Literary Criticism from Horace— "A rs Poetica " 217 

Why Should I Write? Part I —Inquiry 322 

Why Sliould I Write? Part IL— Answer 323 

" Look not iNIournfully into the Past " 324 

What Flowers Sliould Decorate the Grave of the Christian. . . . 325 
Lines of Condolence to F. i\L R. on the Deatii of His Beloved 

Companion 320 

Sonnets to Shakespeare 327 

Visions of Sleep 327 

Thanatokallia. Our Evie 329 

Christmas Day. An Ode 331 

.\n Elegy in Memory of Willie Oliver, Henry Smith, Oscar 

Tayhu- and Charlie Wood 332 

Lines Written in an Album 333 



Contents. ix 

Vane 

The Dead Canary 333 

K|ii(lialainiiini. To Mrs. Marj' Groenc AV'ilson ;;34 

Address of St. Valentine to the Yoiin^ Men of Linden 335 

I Tliinic of Thee. The Soldier to liis Wife. (Sentiment) 33(; 

I Think of Tliee. A Soldier to his Wife. (Fact) 337 

<rhe War of 1801 338 

Romance of the Times 339 

TRANSLATIONS. 

The Dying Flower. (Translation from the German of Fried- 
rich Ruckert) 354 

Mignon. A Song. (Translation from the German of (loethe) . 35(5 
My Fatherland. (Translation from the German of Carl Theo- 
dore Korner) 357 

The Minslnd's Curse. A Ballad. (From the (ierman of Liid- 

wig Uhland) 358 

Tiie Siiepherd's Hymn. (From the German of Ludwig Uh- 
land) 3(50 

Farewell to Life. Sonnet. (From the Crerman of Theodore 

Korner) ,3(50 

The Invisible One. (From the Geniian of Ludwig Uhland) .... 301 

The Resurrection. (From the Cierman of Novalis) 3(>1 

The Tramp 3(52 

The Youth. An Ode. (From the German of Kh)pstock) 303 

The Two Muses. An Ode. (From the (ierman of Klopstock) . . 3()3 

EARLY rOKMS. 

Address of May-Day Queen 365 

The Address of Fh)ra of a May-Day Celebration 3(5G 

Lines to One AVho Said : " There is no Love Save in Home Af- 
fections " 3(37 

An Acrostic 3t8 

A Valentine to Miss Mary S. Colquitt (My Betrothed) 368 

A Poetical Epistle to Mrs. J. M. Greene, nee Colquitt 3(5!) 

The Birchen Scepter ; or Pedagogue Rule 371 

A Retrospect of Life 382 



The South: Its Political^ Literary and 

Theological Writers^ Orators 

and Statesmen* 



SOUTHERN LITERATURE. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Has the south a literature of its own? This question is 
"well propounded in view of an article from the pen of Don 
Tiatt, the noted litterateur of Washington City, in which he 
•^neeringly remarks, in a comment upon Southern books, 
that "one village of New England produces more books than 
-all the Southern States together." 

It must candidly be admitted that the productions of 
Southern intellect are few and small. Why is this the case? 
may be inquired. This is an anomalous feature of the South 
as a political or national section. It possesses all the other 
elements of moral and intellectual greatness. It can not be 
that this deficiency in the realm of letters attributed to it, 
arises from want of intellectual endowments, esthetic taste 
or literary culture. It has produced minds during the past 
century which by their matchless eloquence in the forum 
and in the halls of Congress, by their statesmanship in the 
national cabinet, and in the administration of the affairs of 
government, have encircled the name of the South with a 
halo of intellectual glory. To confirm. this statement needs 
only to mention the names of Hayne, Crawford, McDuilfie, 
Forsyth, Preston, Berrien, Clay, Calhoun, and of many 
•others who by their brilliant talents, not only shed lustre 
Tipon, but shaped the political destiny of the republic. 

Nor can this poverty of the South in the production of 
books arise from lack of those resources necessary to form 
a literature. The beauties of scenery which it presents 
throughout its broad domain are as fair as those sung by 
old Greek Theocritus on oaten stop to the shepherds of 
Sicilian plains, or by Virgil in bucolic verse to the polished 
-ear of the Roman Caesar. Its historic past is filled with 



2 Southern Literature. 

examples of patriotic virtue and deeds of heroic valor as 
glorious as those which have rendered those nations of clas- 
sic antiquity, Greece and Rome, the illustrious models of 
national glory to all ages and climes. In the wide field 
thus opened, the poet can find themes worthy of every strain 
of song from the lofty numbers of the Epic Muse to the 
melting accents of the lyre. Here, too, may the historian 
gather ample materials for the glowing narrative or for the 
profound utterances of philosophical history. 

To show the -causes that have led to the sparsity of the 
contributions of Southern mind to the literature of the age 
and to consider and determine its true literary status and 
merits of Southern authors, will be the design of future 
essays. 

A full and thorough investigation of the causes which 
have restricted the growth and production of Southern 
Literature is a task that requires more labor and research 
than can be given to it in a fugitive essay. They are well 
worthy of the philosophic inquiry of the future historian,, 
who faithfully and justly interpreting them, may vindicate 
the South from the imputation of illiteracy and establish 
its claim as an enlightened political section, though un- 
crowned with the laurels of literary distinction in the field 
of authorship. 

Don Piatt, the Washington City critic, in the article to 
which allusion has been made, states, as it were "ex cathe- 
dra," what he deems to have been the radical causes of the 
reputed inferiority of. the Southern States in the art of mak- 
ing books. He assigns as one of these causes, the former 
existence of the institution of slavery. That late peculiar 
feature of Southern society has been to the North, for a 
century past? the constant source of sectional spleen, and the 
prolific topic of political vituperation of the South. 

It has looked upon slavery as a social atrocity, and re- 
garded it with that obliquity of moral vision that canceled 
all the virtues of Southern character. So diabolical was the 
crime thus committed by the South considered, there was 
not rain enough "in all the sweet heaven to wash out" its 
stains. So deep-rooted the prejudice it engendered, that the 



Introduction. 3 

fearful civil war that extirpated the institution, has not 
plucked the memory of it from the Northern mind, nor the 
sufferings entailed upon the Southern people by that war, 
condoned for the guilt of their ancestors in cherishing slav- 
ery. Though it might have afforded grounds for the polit- 
ical proscription of the South, but that its influence was 
such as to produce moral and intellectual disciualification 
(for the cultivation of literature, can not be readily con- 
ceived. This notion is unsustained by theory or fact. If 
considered in its physical effects, it will be conceded by 
every enlightened mind as an axiomatic truth, that through 
slave labor, the Southern people, being relieved from the 
drudgery of manual employments, would have leisure to 
devote their attention to intellectual pursuits. 

That in its moral effects slavery has had the tendency to 
restrain and impair the intellectual energies and pursuits 
of a people, receives no practical demonstration in the his- 
tory of those nations in the past where it existed. 

Nor was such its result in the Southern States. Let 
Southern civilization be compared with that of any nation 
of ancient or modern times. None exhibits a higher stand- 
ard in respect to the general intelligence, enlightened senti- 
ment, and religious culture of the people. It furnished to 
the world as noble examples of patriotic virtue and political 
wisdom as adorn the annals of Greece or Rome. Mediae- 
val age with its belted knighthood produced no brighter 
specimens of chivalry, courtesy, and honor. Nor England 
with its starred and coroneted nobility and its famed middle 
class presented no higher degree of intelligence and Chris- 
tian culture than was exhibited by the yeomanry and the 
landed proprietors of Southern society. He, whose boyish 
recollections extend to those days, recalls with feelings of 
veneration the men of that period, as they loom up before 
the mind in all the grandeur of moral worth and pure sim- 
plicity of early republican manners. The only adverse in- 
fluence that slavery could have wrought upon literary pur- 
suit at the South was, that by its easy production of wealth 
it took away that necessity which would prompt to the cul- 
tivation of literature as a means of livelihood. 



4 Southern Literature. 

In connection with the influence of slavery, the enervation 
of the cUmate is likewise assigned as a cause of the sparse 
contributions of the South to the literature of the age. The 
investigation of this charge should be a matter of interest 
to those Southern minds tliat feel deeply concerned for the 
fair fame of the "Sunny South," and desire every imputa- 
tion repelled that would unjustly tarnish its escutcheon. To 
this task the present article will be devoted, and though the 
labor performed may not meet with that responsive sym- 
pathy and regard which its importance deserves, yet it will 
be a work of love. 

That climate exerts an influence upon the development 
of the physical and intellectual characteristics of the human 
race, is an opinion currently received. But that it is at- 
tended by all the physiological differences, so strikingly ex- 
hibited in color and feature which were attributed to it by 
early geographers, is a subject of scientific inquiry. That 
its effect is such as to create marked contrasts in the nor- 
mal character of the human mind, can not be fully predicated 
of it. It is demonstrated in the case of the Hindoo race, 
occupying the great peninsula of Southern Asia. Though 
they have not the intellectual endurance of the inhabitants 
of colder climates, yet they are represented as making great 
proficiency in books, and the remains of their ancient liter- 
ature in the Sanscrit will compare favorably with those of 
other nations of antiquity. This is an isolated example, but 
a representative one that fairly illustrates the principle at 
issue, as there is no country upon the globe whose climate 
can be considered more unfavorable to the healthy and 
vigorous development of the physical and intellectual pow- 
ers of man. 

The Southern States, geographically considered, lie within 
the limits of that zone, which being exempt from the ex- 
tremes of heat and cold, has been considered as possessing 
a climate the most desirable for the residence of man and the 
most auspicious for the maturing of all his powers. Within 
this belt of the earth's surface was the cradle of the human 
race, and along it spread that civilization which in its west- 
ward march, produced for the world the noblest triumphs of 



Introduction. 5 

art and achieved for mankind the most important discoveries 
of science. The near approach of the Southern States to 
the tropics, being counterpoised by the breezes of the Gulf 
of Mexico, and in extension northward by the waters of that 
"summer sea," the gulf stream, that flows along their line 
of Atlantic coast, intersected by numerous rivers, and di- 
versified by the verdure-crowned ranges of the Alleghany 
mountains, they have, on account of these peculiar features, 
a variety of climate, and one unsurpassed by that of Italian 
skies or the sunlit realms of Greece. The only effect that 
climate could have had upon the literary pursuits of the 
South, was that its geniality, combined with a productive 
soil and a vast extent of territory, turned the intellectual 
energies of the people to the development of their material 
resources. They devoted their intellectual efforts to agri- 
cultural pursuits, choosing from their broad cotton fields 
and their rice plantations to produce the staples and the 
-food that would clothe and feed the world, as a means of 
opulence, than to weave the airy fabrics of the brain and 
purvey mental stores for the literary market. They pre- 
ferred- the active arena of political life to the ease and re- 
tirement of the studio. They chose rather by living elo- 
quence, "the applause of listening senates to command," 
than in poetic numbers to indite their thoughts, and from 
the voiceless folds of the press to spread them as sybilline 
leaves for the instruction and admiration of mankind. 

It is not to be supposed that the people of the South, in 
the meantime paid no attention to education. They estab- 
lished schools to meet their wants, and erected colleges as 
towers of light to illuminate the land. With all these ad- 
vantages it became to them 

" A country of every land the pride, 
Beloved by Heaven over all the world besides." 

A retrospect of the progress and development of the 
Southern States during the past century will unfold the 
true causes that operated against their taking a high posi- 
tion in the production of literature. At the close of the 
American struggle for independence, the population of the 
South was small and widelv scattered along the line of the 



6 Southern Literature. 

Atlantic seaboard. Before them westward stretched a 
large territory that was almost an unbroken wilderness. 
Separated from the old world by a broad ocean, and their 
domestic resources being greatly impoverished by the long 
war that had just closed, they had but few of the arts of 
civilization. To subdue the wilderness, and from the soil to 
create the products necessary to supply the material wants 
of life was the task that would first necessarily engage their 
efforts. 

Because they had sprung into political existence, and at 
once attained a republican form of government and entered 
upon a national career with a rapidity unparalleled in the 
history of nations, it is erroneous to presume that they 
would, in like manner, develop and possess all the other 
institutions of an old established State. Many of these are 
the slow products of years, and especially the arts and 
sciences. That little State of Greece which has been so 
famous throughout all time as the favored abode of let- 
ters, did not at once produce that literature which is still 
to the world the chosen criterion of grace, beauty and sub- 
limity. It ^yas four centuries from the time that the Hel- 
lenes conquered the autochthons, the natives of the soil, be- 
fore Homer, the blind old bard of Scio's rocky isle, wander- 
ing through the cities of Greece, sung for bread those sub- 
lime strains of song handed down to future ages in the im- 
mortal Iliad. This was the spring-time of Greek literature. 
It was a long-like period of time before it expanded into 
that rich summer of learning whose immortal bloom and 
exquisite luxuriance well nught favor the idea that the 
minds which wrought it received inspiration from the 
Muses that were fabled to dwell on the tlowery summits of 
Mount Helicon. 

Roman Literature was likewise a many-ceiUury-blooniing 
plant. Though grafted on the learning of Greece as its 
parent stock, yet many cycles of time elapsed before it flow- 
ered and gave to the world the stately epics of \'irgil. the 
glowing lyrics of Horace, and the polished periods of Cicero. 
The literature of Kngland, which with Nile-like munificence 
waters and fructifies the realms of mind throusrhout the 



Introduction. 7 

T^ng-lish-speaking countries of the globe, was slowly and 
gradually augmented to its present grand volume. Begin- 
ning in Chaucer as its fountain-head and trickling forth as a 
•rivulet, and constantly receiving tributaries in the produc- 
tions of gifted minds of each succeeding generation, it has 
broadened and strengthened as it rolled with the lapse of 
ages, into that magnificent stream that bears within its 
bosom "the solidest treasure of learning and the noblest har- 
vests of poesy." 

There are certain laws that govern the productions of the 
"human intellect, and they can be superseded by no artificial 
processes. This applies in the case of either individuals 
or nations. In this wonderful age of scientific progress and 
difl:'usion of knowledge, artificial aids have been tried in 
the various theories and systems of education that have 
prevailed. The hot-house experiments have failed, and it 
is still found that there is no royal road to learning, and 
lie who would climb its rugged heights and drink of the 
Pierian fount upon the summit must endure the toil of the 
ascent. 

In the early days of the republic, an English reviewer, in 
•commenting upon American literature, said that "Litera- 
ture was one of those finer manufactures which a new 
•country will find it better to import than to raise." "Native 
literature," says the Reviewer, "the Americans have none. 
■Jt is all imported. And why should they write books, 
when a six weeks' passage brings them in their own tongue, 
•our sense, science and genius in bales and hogsheads." 
In reply to the criticism thus quoted, a book was written t)y 
l^obert Walsh, Esq., in 1819, titled "Strictures upon the 
Calumnies of British Writers," in which this uncharitable 
and illiberal spirit was denounced, and it is the same that 
is now practiced by the North toward the South. 

Besides the disadvantage which the South experienced as 
Ijeing a new country in the production of a literature of its 
own, the intellectual activity of the enlightened world was 
turned into the field of scientific discovery. Then com- 
■menced the era of those brilliant achievements of science 
-which has made the nineteenth centurv the most marvelous 



8 Southern Literature. 

epoch of all time. The discovery of the power of stearrr 
and its application in the steamboat, railroad and the various- 
mechanical arts, created that revolution which directed the 
intellectual energies both of Europe and America into a: 
new channel. The South participated in this movement, 
and devoted its attention to productive and mechanical in- 
dustry. There was no time for indulging in the dreamy 
abstractions of literary pursuits. There was no leisure for 
exploring the heights of Parnassus and coquetting with the 
Muses. The nymphs and Naiads of Greek and Roman 
mythology, the inspiration and topic of poetic genius, de- 
serted their sylvan bowers and limpid streams at the ap- 
proach of the locomotive as it moved through the wilder- 
ness. The iron horse of science supplanted the winged 
Pegasus of the poet. The fountains of tratific it opened up 
were more enticing to mankind than all the waters of Hip- 
pocrene. 

Thus we may perceive the true causes that led to res- 
triction of the cultivation of literature at the South. 

A review of the literary productions of the South pre- 
sents an extended field of investigation, and in view of 
their sparsity and the indifferent state in which they are 
preserved, it may be considered a task of barren and diffi- 
cult toil. It can not boast of those massive volumes of 
history which invite the student to tread the dim aisles of 
the past, and survey as in living panorama the men and 
things of other times. There are no multitudinous works 
of fiction to charm with their ideal and delusive scenes of 
"many colored life" or beguile with their gorgeous dreams 
of romance. There is no epic poem to delight with its sub- 
lime thought and majestic sweep of verse, and stand in^ 
solitary grandeur amidst the flow of centuries as the en- 
during monument of national genius and glory. 

The list of Southern authors is small. But few if any 
of them, in the past, claimed to be professional writers, or 
sought distinction in the sphere of authorship. They wrote 
only as leisure might permit, or fancy or inclination might 
prompt. Their coiUrihutions were mainly to the journals 
and periodicals of their day. They poured forth their 



Introduction. 9 

thoughts with that careless procHgality with which, in their 
own clime, spring scatters its floral wealth, or summer its 
fruits ; and published in the manner they were, they often 
perished with the occasion that gave them birth. Those 
who were enamored with poetry piped in every note of 
the muse, and in the exulting fullness of song with which 
that winged child of Euterpe, the mocking-bird, pours forth 
its varied melody. 

There is no profusion of Southern books. But what they 
lack in quantity they supply in quality. They are thickly- 
sown with thoughts and sentiments which resemble "those 
fruits and flowers which the Virgin Martyr of Massinger 
sent down from Paradise to earth, distinguished from the 
productions of other soils not only by their superior bloom 
and sweetness, but by their miraculous efficacy to invigorate 
and to heal." There are a few productions of Southern 
minds, which judged according to the established standard 
of literary excellence, exhibit that grace, beauty, and wit^ 
which should entitle their authors to the shamrock of im- 
mortality. Could all the writings that have emanated from 
Southern pens be evoked from their hiding places, where 
they lie entombed in periodicals, journals, and pamphlets,. 
or in some antiquated volume in the obscure corners of pri- 
vate libraries or of booksellers' stalls, they would, if col- 
lected and properly arranged, form a literary Parthenon^ 
which, if not grand in its proportions, yet would be peer- 
less in its classic grace and beauty. To the task above men- 
tioned the cultivated intellect of the Southern States should 
earnestly and assiduously devote itself. It is worthy of its. 
noblest efforts to rescue from oblivion and preserve in dura- 
ble form the works of its posthumous writers, which are 
gradually, and "by piecemeal falling into the maw of time.'^ 
It is a tribute of honor due from the South to its children 
of genius. It will but add to its fame. A national litera- 
ture is the moral Nile upon which the popular mind depends 
for its nourishment and fertility. The Southern people 
should no longer submit to be held in that degrading vassal- 
age which makes them dependent upon the educated mind 
of the North for theii: supplies of books, as they do upon its 



lo Southern Literature. 

skillful thrift for its manufactured goods. As forming one 
nationalitv, relations of peace and friendship should he cher- 
ished and sustained hetween the two sections and the bonds 
of brotherhood be firmly knit, but "Timeo Grjecos et dona 
ferentes," should be the cautious spirit of the Southern 
heart, in view of the past. In a book of oratory designed 
for schools and sold in the South, the following insidious 
extract from a speech by a Northern writer upon the "Tri- 
umph of the Union Cause " appears: "The flag of the Union 
waves in triumph over the rebel Capitol, and Davis and Lee 
and tlieir guilty compeers, with l)rand of treason on their 
brows, are seeking for a hiding place, and can find none on 
American soil." 

What Southern parent wants his children to imbibe such 
sentiments in regard to the "lost cause." 

ITS POLITIC.VL WRITERS. 

The South has produced some distinguished political 
writers. A consideration of their writings may legitimately 
be included in the scope of sketches of Southern literature. 
The intellectual taste and genius of the Southern people 
have been eminently political and have been largely directed 
to the investigation and discussion of the great principles 
of popular self-government from their incipiency to their 
present grand develoi)ment in the Constitution of the 
republic. The treatises that have emanated from Soutiiern 
writers upon these subjects are worthy of the profoundest 
regard. They are not ideal speculations of government, 
which, as in tl goUlen tlreams of Plato of his haj^py repub- 
lic, portray a perfection of politics and laws which would 
remove all evils and secure universal happiness to mankind, 
but "baseless as the fabric of a vision." They present the 
exposition of these political immunities, the freedom of 
oj)inion and the right of suffrage, which by giving indi- 
viduality and making each citizen a constituent element 
of the body politic, has wrought for the American people 
the largest blessings of civil liberty. They are the land- 
marks by wliich the political policy and movements of the 
country have been guitled, and by which it has reached its 



Introduction. ii 

present proportions of unrivaled s^reatness and t;:lory. Sueh 
is the cliaractcr and merit of the j)olitieal writers of the 
South. They arc well worthy to be ranked in that line of 
illustrious statesmen of past aj^es, who by their wisdom 
laid broad and enduring the foundations of States, and with 
them should occupy a noble pedestal in the world's great 
Pantheon of immortality. 

The ])rinciples which produced the American l\cvoluti(-)n 
and the brilliant success that attended that struggle, con- 
stituted a new era in the political history of the civilized 
world. To appreciate the ideas of the political leaders of 
the contest it is necessary to survey the civil governments 
of Europe, the great centre of human civilization, for many 
preceding centuries. The idea of a government for the 
peo])lc and by the people was obsolete. The last example 
of purely democratic government worthy of note was that 
of the ancient republic of Rome. l^Vom the twelfth to the 
fourteenth century there had llourishcfl the petty repul)lics of 
<ienoa and Venice. Their systems of government were aris- 
tocratic or at best oligarchical. The Podesta of one and 
the Doge of the other, as chief magistrates, were but the vas- 
sals of the will of the councils that controlled the affairs of 
the .State. The dreaded "Council of Ten" of Venice was an 
"arbitrary and in(|uisitorial body, a standing tyranny." The 
little State of Switzerland, amidst its Alpine fastness, alone 
had a free government, exhibiting in contrast with the t\- 
rannies of Euro])c, that miracle of its scenery, roses and 
myrtles blooming amid dreary and barren glacii-rs of ice. 
The mass of llu' pt-ople of tlie various kingdoms and states 
of Europe had uo participation in the affairs of the gov- 
ernment, and felt and had no interest save that which re- 
lated to the security of jierson and fortune. They were 
as "a duiub driven herd," subject to the triple tyranny of 
1<ing, nol)le and priest. 



12 Southern Literature. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

The task presented in a review of its political writers, and 
the exposition of their ability and merits, should be a mat- 
ter of profound consideration, sacred duty and interest to- 
the South. To their political doctrines and statesmanship 
this threat commonwealth formed of the sisterhood of States 
is largely indebted for its prosperity and grandeur, and the 
South as a section especially owes its honor and glory. 

Neither lapse of time nor any other circumstance should 
abate in the Southern mind the expediency and the impor- 
tance of such a work. The interest involved is too broad 
and grand that it should be controlled by slight contin- 
gencies. The torch of mind is the flame of glory. 

As essential to the due consideration and the proper esti- 
mate of the political writers of the South, in our last article 
a survey of the civil polity of Europe as the great centre of 
the world's civilization, for several preceding centuries, was 
briefly presented. The retrospect then taken of the politi- 
cal history of continental Europe, exhibited hereditary rule 
and "the divine right of kings" as the fundamental prin- 
ciples, and despotism and oligarchy as the Procrustean 
framework of its governments, unchanged by the ceaseless 
rise and fall of nations as wrought by time or war. No- 
element of civil liberty appeared, save in the little republic 
of Switzerland with its "league of friendly States," located 
amidst the ice-clad Alps and thus, girded by nature's colos- 
sal ramparts against the surging waves of despotism. It was- 
:the boast of England, that its seagirt domains were the 
chosen and favored abode of liberty. It possessed one or 
two of the great immunities of civil liberty in the famed 
Magna Charta wrested from the unwilling hands of tyran- 
ny, yet not until the "glorious revolution of 1688," that de- 
throned the reigning dynasty and the liberties of the nation 
were secured by the "bill of rights" against any future ar- 
bitrary acts of its kings, were the manacles of regal des- 
potism fully broken. 

This brief account embraces the main features of the 



Thomas Jefferson 13 

political history and represents the pohlical state, of the 
civilized world previous to that p^reat event — the American 
Revolution. It inaugurated a new era in the fundamental 
principles of lurnan government, and wrought results in 
this respect, corresponding in magnitude to those produced 
"by the discovery of the Western Hemisphere upon the other 
departments of civilization. Here, on the shores of a new 
world, "the free spirit of mankind at length threw its last 
fetter off." Intimately connected with the struggle of the 
American colonies for indejiendence, is the question of the 
merits of the political writers of the South. The colonies 
of the South were nobly represented by the pen as well as 
the sword in that contest. The political productions of 
Southern minds contributed largely to its success and glory. 
First and foremost among those revolutionary patriots, who 
wielded the pen in behalf of liberty, was Thomas Jefferson, 
the immortal penman of that celebrated document — the 
Declaration of Independence. 

As the author of this article he receives much of his cele- 
brity. Is his fame in this respect justly deserved? To how 
nmch credit is he entitled? It is evident that this instru- 
ment of writing derives its prestige not alone from the na- 
ture and character of its j)ur])ose, but possesses intrinsic 
literary excellence. The pure, classic and dignified style in 
which it is written, makes it an a])propriate utterance of a 
people cherishing the noble spirit of liberty and protesting 
against the wrongs of tyranny. His literary culture and 
early associations qualified him for the task. "He was 
skillful with the pen, he was faniiliar with the points of 
controversy ; he was a Virginian." 

As to the political principles which it enunciates, he can 
not be awarded the merit of originating them by his excur- 
sions as sole pioneer in the fields of political speculation. 
They had their origin far back "in the past. For centuries 
they had been pulsating in the great popular heart, amid 
the gloom and oppression of European tyranny. The Bible 
evoked from its monastic seclusion by Luther and dissemi- 
nating its soul-elevating and humanity-honoring truths had 
awakened and fostered them. Rousseau, about the middle 



14 Southern Literature. 

of the eighteenth century, as the great hierophant of liberty, 
ministering at the ahars of humanity, had written and pub- 
lished in his "Contrat Social,'' the rights of man. The 
Magna Charta and tlie Bill of Rights setting forth the in- 
alienable privileges of Englishmen had been indited. From 
these sources, the genius of this great statesman may have 
derived inspiration in his preparation of the political docu- 
ment which has so greatly distinguished him. Yet when it 
is carefully considered, its author merits the singular dis- 
tinction the world has given him. 

It has been said "the noblest utterance of the whole com- 
position is the reason given for making the declaration — • 
'A decent respect for the opinions of mankind.' " This 
touches the heart. Among the best emotions that human 
nature knows is the veneration of man for man. This rec- 
ognition of the public opinion of the world, as final arbiter 
in all such controversies, is the single phrase of the docu- 
ment which Jefferson alone, perhaps of all the Congress 
would have originated ; and in point of merit it is worth 
all the rest. Let the Declaration of Independence, then, re- 
main intact as the due monument to his genius and name ; 
more noble and enduring than the slender shaft or stately 
pillar which the sculptor may cut from "marbled honor's 
caverned bed" to perpetuate the memory of departed great- 
ness. 

As a political writer, Jefferson was not the author of 
any elaborate or extended work upon civil government or of 
political economy. A summary of his views upon these sub- 
jects must be collected from his epistolary correspondence. 
Though scattered as they are in this manner, they are 
worthy of greatest painstaking in research and of the 
highest consideration. 

He was not the projector of Utopian schemes of govern- 
ment brilliant in theory but futile in practice. He was not 
the propounder and advocate of questions of national pol- 
icy which were for the time being, and became obsolete with 
their defeat or adoption. He was not the promoter of 
measures which had solely in view the aggrandizement of 
self or party. 



Thomas Jefferson 15 

The principles which he cherished and advocated have 
been and are yet to a certain extent, the professed political 
tenets of the national Democratic party which held the reins 
of government for twenty years, and under whose auspices 
the United States grew great in population, wealth and 
territory, and advanced with decennial speed in their career 
of glory until the spirit of disunion invaded the ranks of 
the party at the Charleston Convention in i860 and the tocsin 
of civil war sounded the death-knell of its supremacy in 
1861. These principles were not to be extirpated by the 
defeat or downfall of any political party. They lie at the 
foundation of the Constitution, and as long as it is held in- 
violate, will direct in the administration of the govern- 
ment. 

The rights of man, as viewed individually and collec- 
tively, were the basis of his political creed. He earnestly de- 
sired and sought that the Constitution of the United States 
should be so framed that it would be the Palladium of 
civil liberty and extend the broad aegis of its protection over 
the humblest citizen of the commonwealth. He considered 
the first Constitution suggested to the States, and even its 
immediate successor, the second Constitution which was 
finally adopted by them, as imperfect in this respect, and 
urged that it should be amended by annexing a bill of 
civil rights which should give full specifications. 

The war being closed, their independence recognized, 
and peace made, it was a question of momentous con- 
cern to the Colonies what form of government should 
they adopt. The object of the war was to repel the ty- 
rannical exactions imposed upon them by the British gov- 
ernment and the result was to shake of? their dependence 
upon it forever. The sentiments of the people were va- 
rious as to what form of government should be adopted. 
There were those who favored the establishment of a 
limited monarchy, influenced by a lingering attachment 
to England, the parent country. The army proposed 
to Washington to make him king. His patriotism was 
too pure to grasp the splendid prize ofifered to his ambi- 
tion. The leaders of the revolution had no doubt revolved 



1 6 Southern Literature. 

in mind, and looked forward, to the laying of the founda- 
tion of a government which would secure the blessings of 
civil liberty, in the event that the struggle of the colonies for 
independence should be successful. That "all men are born 
free and equal," was the cherished political maxim of Jef- 
ferson, and it could meet with full recognition only in an 
■elective or republican form of government. That such a 
model had long existed in idealistic creation in his mind and 
was familiar to his thoughts, was clearly evinced by the 
well-defined views and suggestions he gave in his letters 
from Paris to the Presid^it of the Convention that framed 
the original Constitution of the United States. 

Having thrown off its alfegiance to the British crown, 
during the war that ensued, each colony had practically as- 
sumed and exercised the functions of a sovereign State and 
-conducted its public affairs upon the elective principle of 
-government. This circumstance, perhaps, had already 
shaped and predetermined that the character of its "body- 
politic" should be a republic. 

What should be the future relations of the infant States 
to each other, was likewise an important matter to be settled. 
Should each be a separate and independent nationality, o*" 
should they unite and form one nation under a consolidated 
■government. History, the "reverend chronicler" of the 
past, gave its warning voice, and taught that jealousy would 
arise and strife ensue between nations whose territories 
Avcre contiguous, and that the confederation of States gave 
strength and power to them. 

The rivalry among the sister rejmblics of ancient Greece 
gave rise to constant and extensive wars which sapped the 
foundation of their, prosperity. Their union under the 
Achean league, after centuries of strife, had enabled them, 
•even in the period of their decadence, to resist the encroach- 
ing power of surrounding nations. The Hanseatic league 
of the German cities, which resulted in converting each into 
n city-republic, had also demonstrated to the world the bene- 
fits of political union. 

There were many facts and circumstances to induce and 
■urge the people of the new-born States to consider and favor 



Thomas Jefferson. 17 

the organization of a regular and permanent national gov- 
ernment. They had the same common ancestry, spoke the 
same mother tongue, drew from the same "dug, freedom's 
breath of life." They together had shared in the suffer- 
ings and triumphs of the sanguinary conflict just passed; 
were in a weak and impoverished condition, and above all 
had tested and realized the strength and efiicacy of union in 
that it had enabled them to cope with and defeat a formida- 
ble enemy. 

This programme of government was pre-established by 
the war and revolution, in the Articles of Confederation that 
had been adopted by them as colonies, and the creation 
of that legislative body, the Continental Congress, which had 
been invested "with great and various powers" to conduct 
the war. This compact imder which they had united was 
still in force and recognized, and Congress still exercised its 
legislative and executive functions. The seven years' war 
had tended to give permanency of feature to this provi- 
sional government, and the existing circumstances rendered 
its perpetuation still necessary. But it was found inade- 
quate to meet the new situation of afifairs which supervened 
upon the recognition of their independence and the estab- 
lishment of peace. The necessity of a better organization 
of the general government was imperative. 

A convention of the States by their delegates met at 
Philadelphia, 14th of May, 1787, under the authority of 
Congress, for the purpose of revising the Articles of Confed- 
eration, and rendering "the Federal Constitution adequate 
to the exigencies of government and the preservation of 
the Union." The result of the proceedings of that Con- 
•vention was the present Constitution of the United States, 
before the recent amendments. 

The views of Jefferson as a distinguished patriot and an 
eminent statesman of that period, in regard to the Consti- 
tution and his constructions of its various features, should 
elicit inquiry. The practical operation of it for a hundred 
years has either confirmed or refuted his opinions. He 
approved the scheme of government it embodied. It co- 
incided with the model which he had preconceived in mind. 



1 8 SOUTHERN I^ITERATURH. 

It had its defects in tlie omission of certain important polit- 
ical rights. It was concluded in too broad and general 
terms. He wanted the line of demarcation between the 
powers of the general government and those of the States 
clearly drawn. The true theory of the Constitution should 
be, that the Federal Government should have control of 
all questions of foreign relations and between other States, 
and the States of all that concerned themselves. 

This was the point of vital interest. Upon it hinged the 
successful experiment of the proposed government. The 
proper distribution of political power, and the equipoise 
thus produced, acting as the centrifugal and centripetal 
forces which keep the planets in their orbits around the sun, 
would cause the States to move harmoniously along their 
respective paths around the Union, as the central source 
of strength and glory. 

The convention that framed the Constitution was com- 
posed not only of men of profound and sagacious minds, 
but of men who differed in their schemes of government. 
There were those who earnestly and vigilantly guarded 
against the cession of any power or right to the Constitution, 
that would, in the least, affect the sovereignty of the States. 
There were those of equal ability, who desired a strong cen- 
tral government and the elimination of all State lines. The 
Constitution was the result of a compromise of these antag- 
onistic views, and bears the impress in the broad and general 
terms in which it is couched, and the two-fold construction 
that has been placed upon that feature of it which concerns 
the rights of the States in their sovereign capacity. 

The letters of Mr. Jefferson, written from Paris whilst 
the convention was in session, show how deeply he was con- 
cerned that the individual sovereignty of the States should 
be fully recognized and clearly defined in the constitutional 
fabric of the national government. He regarded it as "the 
barrier of civil liberty." It would serve as a check and 
safeguard against all usurpation and tyrannical exercise 
of prerogative on the part of the general government or the 
role of Alexander, or Caesar, or Cromwell, by any ambitious 
spirit that might hold the reins of executive power. He 



Thomas Jeffer.son. 19 

fully exemplified his views upon the question of State 
rights in his opposition to the alien and sedition acts pro- 
jected and passed by the party in possession of the admin- 
istration. The strong protest to these acts, offered by the 
Kentucky resolutions (Nov. 26, 1798), was written by Mr. 
Jefferson. This celebrated paper, together with that of the 
Virginia resolutions written by Madison, declared that the 
Federal Constitution is a compact between the States as 
States, and that each party has an equal right to judge for 
itself, as well of infraction, as of the mode and measure of 
redress. 

As to the extreme doctrine of the right of any State or 
States to secede from the Union in redress of its grievances, 
"he gave no expression of opinion. He supposed that pos- 
:sibly such a contingency might arise in the administration 
of the government that "certain States from local and oc- 
casional discontents, might attempt to secede from the 
Union. But it is not probable that local, discontents can 
spread to such an extent, as to be able to face the sound 
parts of so extensive an Union ; and if ever they should reach 
the majority, they would then become the regular govern- 
ment, acquire the ascendency in Congress, and be able to 
redress their own grievances by laws peaceably and con- 
stitutionally passed." 

The right of secession as a principle inherent in the 
sovereigntv of the States has been a doctrine more or less 
cherished and maintained since the foundation of the gov- 
ernment. Massachussetts thought so once, as indicated in 
the Hartford resolutions, and so did South Carolina, as ex- 
pressed in the Act of Nullification. No such right was 
stipulated in the Constitution, yet from the nature and ol> 
ject of the compact it might be inferred as reserved. "The 
pound of flesh" might be claimed in that political bond but 
there was no mention of "a jot of blood." The revolt of 
Texas from the Republic of Mexico, and the aid and encour- 
•agement it received in establishing its independence from 
the people but not the government of the United States, in- 
cidentally illustrated the popular sentiment upon the ques- 
tion of the secession of a State from a Federal compact. 



20 Southern Literature. 

The Southern States tried the experiment in 1861. After a 
fearful civil war of four years they were subdued and co- 
erced back into the Union. This has practically settled for 
a time the question of secession. The principle still exists 
in the minds of men. It rose invincible from the crimson 
tide of war, and still shakes "its gory locks," and will not 
down at the bidding of any victorious party. The bonds 
of Union which bind the States can not be pcacably untied, 
but like the Gordian knot must be severed by the sword. It 
may be well to cherish the doctrine of State sovereignty 
as a safeguard of civil liberty, but the State or States should 
pause before they try the experiment of secession. It is a 
revolutionar\' measure that will require the arbitrament 
of the sword. As long as there lingers in the minds of men 
the recollection of the sutTt'erings of the South during the 
late war; its flower and chivalry slain upon the field of bat- 
tle, its products of industry swept away, its towns and cities 
despoiled and its peaceful homes burned, its widows' tears 
and its orphans' cries, its final subjugation and subsequent 
political humiliation, no State or States will be prone to re- 
peat the experiment of secession. 

Freedom of speech is a vital element and an essential 
safeguard of a republican form of government. The his- 
tory of the past demonstrates this fact. The Bema of an- 
cient Athens was the bulwark of liberty in the little repub- 
lic of Attica. It was from its summit the affairs of the 
government were presented and discussed in public assem- 
blies of the people, the designs of demagogues and traitors 
were exposed, and measures of safety adopted. It was from 
thence, that Demosthenes poured forth those burning Phi- 
lippics which "fulmined over Greece." shook the throne of 
the tyrant of IMacedon and thwarted his ambitious schemes 
for the .subjugation of the Grecian States. The Tribune 
or the forum was the citadel of popular liberty to ancient 
Rome, and for three hundred years preserved it as a repub- 
lic from the despotism of patrician rule and military chief- 
tains. 

The first cfifort of the foreign or domestic tyrant in his 
designs to overthrow the liberties of the people, has al- 



Thomas Jkfferson. 21 

-ways been to suppress the freedom of speech. Bonaparte 
resorted to this trick of policy when upon "the rums of 
the throne and the tribune," he formed of hberty-seekmg 
France an empire. His example in this respect was fol- 
lowed by Louis Napoleon, who in more modern times bold- 
ly projected and successfully consummated the same enter- 
prise. . , 
The revolutionary struggle occasioned the exercise, antl 
obtained for the people ol" the United States the ])rivilege 
of "freedom of speech." The modern invention of the 
printing press opened for it a wider sphere of operation 
than presented in the viva voce of the popular assemblies 
of those ancient republics, Greece and Rome. The ubiquity 
imparted to it by this medium of communication largely in- 
creased its potency and restricted its mobocratic tendency. 
In regard to the freedom of speech or of the press, Jefiferson 
was a most zealous advocate. He urged that it_ should be 
secured by an express provision in the Constitution, and to 
that purpose persistently directed his efforts until it was 
accomplished, by an amendment to the Constitution passed 
bv the first Congress (1789). 

'He considered it so vitally important to the security of 
che institutions of a free government, that he would not ad- 
mit of the propriety of the press being "muzzled." Al- 
though he was often the subject of its falsehood and vitu- 
peration during his political career, yet he was so deeply 
convinced of its utility in the preservation of the popular 
liberty, that he would not consent to its coming under the 
censorship of the law, where public measures and the acts 
of public men were concerned. The censorship of enlight- 
ened public opinion would neutralize and correct the abuses 
of a perverted license. The political trainiiig which it would 
impart, would qualify the people to judge rightly and justly 
of the truth of its statements. 

The history of the press for the past century justifies 
the wisdom of Jefferson concerning its freedom. It has 
been the great political educator of the people, and in an 
eminent degree qualified them for the critical experiment of 
:self-govcrnment. Sending out daily and weekly through 



22 Southern Literature. 

the columns of the ubiquitous newspaper the discussion of 
all political topics by the enlightened wisdom of the land, 
it instructs and prepares the masses for the high duties 
of citizenship in a government, where each individual in 
proportion to his voice and vote exerts his influence in 
shaping all public measures. Every American child is a 
born politician. 

The influence of the press has been largely conducive 
to the tranquillity of the government. It has aflforded vent 
to the volcanic fires of party spirit that threatened disrup- 
tion of the rcpul)]ic, guiding to the bloodless contests of the 
ballot-box with the pen. instead of marshaling antago- 
nistic forces to the clash of arms. However in full record 
of the press it has been said, 

That with the bitter, burninjj speech of the tongue 
Intlanied the Soiitli with maddened sense of wrong, 
And urged the North with conscious might of force 
To press to blood>heti its fanatic course; 
And between those wrougiu internecine strife, 
Wlio from same dug drew Freedom's breath of life. 
And same cliiidhood of a ghirioiis past, 
Its golden link> of Union strong had cast. 

The press has become more wary and discreet, and the 
public mind does not always blindly receive the utterances 
from the editorial tripod as oracular. It now stretches out 
its Briarean arms over the whole land, and no human agency 
of civilization can compare with it in its power to do good 
or evil. As an expositor of political issues it should teach 
the people with the moderation of wisdom, and standing 
as sentinel upon the watch-tower guard with sleepless vigi- 
lance the citadel of liberty. As a fountain of instruction it 
should send out streams of pure and useful knowledge, that 
will truly inform and elevate the popular mind. As a censor 
of manners, it can encourage to the cultivation of virtue and 
deter fiom the practice of vice. This is its high mission. 
May it perform it well. 

The question of religious faith and divine worship has 
ever been one of intense interest to the human mind. What- 
ever religion may be embraced, and whether true or false, it 
takes strong hold of man's pathematic nature, and exerts an 



Thomas Jefferson. 2;^ 

influence which can awaken his mind to highest transports 
of enthusiasm or excite to wildest bursts of frenzy. In no 
other reahn of opinion does the spirit of bigotry exercise 
a more self-exacting and imperious sway or prompt the 
hand so readily to grasp the warlike weapon for the purpose 
of defense or domination. 

No nation has ever existed which did not possess and 
cherish some form of religion. Although the nature of re- 
ligion is such that it involves man's relations only as an in- 
dividual, and that solely to the Supreme Being, yet at an 
early period of antiquity, the religious creed and the rites 
of worship of nations entered largely into their political 
life and formed their national customs. Becoming thus in- 
separably interwoven, in many pagan nations the control 
and supervision of religion was made the business of the 
State. In ancient Greece it came under the jurisdiction of 
the court of Areopagus, ^^schylus, the celebrated tragic 
poet, was tried by this court upon the accusation of impiety, 
and would have been condemned and "stoned to death by 
the Athenians," had not his brother, Aminias held up his 
mutilated hand hewn by a Persian scimetar at Marathon, 
as a mute but eloquent appeal to the tribunal for clemency. 
The Roman republic created a college of Pontiffs to super- 
intend the worship of the national "gods" and to punish all 
acts of sacrilege. 

It might be supposed that the Christian religion in view 
of the character of its peculiar doctrines, upon its advent 
into the world, would inaugurate a new state of things. Its 
Divine Author announced that his kingdom was not of this 
world. He declared the true worship of God to be entirely 
spiritual, and required no outward pomp or ceremony. Its 
principle was love, and its object was peace. He invested 
conscience with an inviolable sanctity of right, and as the 
living oracle of God within the soul, in all matters of per- 
sonal religion, its voice was superior in authority to the 
edicts of kings or the arbitrary decrees of hierarchical coun- 
cils. It might be presumed that his followers would em- 
brace and be guided by the principles which he so clearly 
enunciated. The history of Christianity shows divergencies 



24 SOUTIII'.RX LiTKRATURE. 

from tlic teachings of its Divine founder. When it grew itr 
power and became the religion of the Roman empire, it 
assumed the prerogative of requiring conformity to those 
articles of faith and that style of worship which it might 
dictate, and of punishing all recusants. 

The history of all religions shows the spirit of intoler- 
ance. It existed lietween Jew and Gentile, as truth and 
error are always antagonistic. Pagan Rome was tolerant 
of the religions of the nations it conquered by its arms, and 
established a Pantheon at the seat of empire for the en- 
rollment and worship of all divinities, but it issued imperial 
rescripts for the extinction of Christianity. Mohammedan- 
ism waged a war of extermination against all other creeds. 
"The Koran or the sword" was the battle-cry of the fierce 
warriors of Yemen that gathered under the green standard 
of the Prophet of Mecca for the propagation of Islamism. 
Oh! this spirit of religious intolerance! No plague more 
fell or destructive to human happiness has ever escaped 
from the Stygian stream. Even heaven-born Christianity 
with its proclamation of peace on earth and good-will to 
man, has not been exempt from its devastating work. En- 
genderetl in corruption and sin in the bosom of tlio Romish 
church, this spirit leaped forth, armed with the implements 
of torture and death, and rioted in the blood of thousands 
of innocent victims. The crusades for the recovery of the 
Holy Sepulchre from Moslem power, the dungeons of the 
inquisition, the martyr fires of Sniitbfield. the massacre of 
St. Bartholomew, and the wars of contending religious ^ects 
which made a battlefield of Europe for many years, all 
attest the fearful woes which the spirit of sectarian bigotry 
has wrought for mankind. 

The discovery of America- opened an asylum for the op- 
pressed, 'iliither fled thousands to escape the luerarchical 
despotism of the old world and to have liberty of conscience. 
The Puritans and Quakers from luigland, the Huguenots 
from l*"rance, and the Roman Catholics under Lord Palti- 
more. seeking religious freedom, sought the wilds of Amer- 
ica and laid the colonization of the New World. But the 
spirit of intolerance even here was not banished from the 



Thomas Jkkkkrson, 25 

ranks of C'liristiaiiity. The Puritans commenced the per- 
secution of the Quakers and i^>aptists. This gave rise to 
that divinely inspired thought of reHgious toleration in the 
mind of Roger Williams, the leader of the Baptist refugees 
from I'm'itan tyranny. Thus from the lips of this humhle 
man emanated a truth which embodied a political principle, 
that either had escaped the attention of rulers, statesmen, 
and legislative bodies or had been ignored by them in the 
blind infatuation of power. The recognition of this trutli 
by the Christian world would have precluded much pain, 
suffering and bloodshed to the human race. 

In laying the foundations of a national government the 
question of religion, from its importance, would necessarily 
])resent itself to the consideration of the convention that 
framed the constitution of the United States. As religious 
toleration had been practically recognized and asserted in 
the different colonies, that body left the question untouched. 

The attitude of Jeft'erson upon the subject was clearly de- 
fined in liis epistolary correspondence. He strenuously 
urged that the ])rinciple of religious freedom should be 
incorporated in the Constitution and be securely guarded by 
an express provision, nor did he relax his efforts until it 
was done by an amendment to the constitution, passed the 
first Congress in 1789. He said that he "contemplated with 
sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people 
which declared that their legislature should make no law 
respecting the estal)lishment of religion or prohibiting the 
free exercise thereof," thus building a walll)etween Church 
and State. 

The common right of freedom of conscience was a col- 
unm of strength in the Constitution, and was a crowning 
grace to it as the peerless model of a republican form of 
government. The United States was the first in time, if 
Tiot the only nation in whose organic law it was embodied as 
a fundamental feature of its polity. 

The pen may scarcely enumerate the inestimable blessings 
of which it has been the prolific source. It has been a heal- 
ing remedy for those strifes engendered by differences of 
religious tenets, which "in times past" had convulsed king- 



20 Southern Literature. 

doms and polluted the peaceful altars of Christianity with 
the bloody rites of Moloch. There has been no resounding 
shock in arms of Protestants and Baptists on battle plain, 
or hounding of covenanters among mountain fastnesses to 
disturb the tran(|uillity of the government. Each denomi- 
nation of Christians has exercised the privilege of worship- 
ing God according to the dictates of their conscience 
"under their own vine and fig-tree" and none have dared 
"to molest or make afraid." Armed in panoply divine and 
marshalled under the same celestial labarum, all sects of 
Christians have constituted one grand sacramental host 
which has advanced on its line of march with the good 
of man and the glory of God in view. Freed from the 
shackles of ecclesiastical dogmas, theology has pressed into 
broader fields of inquiry and has added largely to the com- 
mon treasury of religious knowletlge. 

Thus the common right of liberty of conscience guaran- 
teed under the Constitution to all citizens, has engirdled 
with the bow of peace the religious life of the nation, and 
by its harmonizing power upon the religious creeds of men, 
it has come nearer than at any other epoch of the world's 
history of bringing into sweet realization the golden age 
as sung by Virgil in the diviner strain of the Sicilian Muse 
or the evangelical period as depicted by rapt Isaiah in the 
glowing words of prophecy. Naught has occurred to mar 
the harmonious picture presented or to require interference 
on the part of the government to prevent the infringement 
or abuse of this privilege guaranteed under the constitution 
to all citizens, save in the Mormon delusion and atrocity. 

How greatly favored were the United States in the con- 
servative character as well as the political sagacity of those 
minds which composetl the convention which framed the 
Constitution and laid the foundations of their national gov- 
ernment upon such a broad and happy basis ! How fortunate 
was it for the future glory and prosperity of the nation that 
in that legislative body, the religious fanaticism exhibited 
by the English Parliament in the days of Cromwell, or the 
atheistic sentiments of the French Asseml)ly that dethroned 
religion and decreed the worship of the goddess of Reason, 



Thomas Jefferson. 37 

did not reign and mould its organic structure of govern- 
ment ! 

Scarcely had the Constitution been adopted l)y the thir- 
teen original States, when Jefiferson, surveying the present 
and forecasting with prescient mind the future, pronounced 
the government it inaugurated "as the best existing in 
the world or ever did exist." The experiment of a century 
has fully verified, if it has not transcended, his most san- 
guine anticipations in regard to its happy and successful 
operation. How few of the many millions of beings that 
have enjoyed the exalted privilege and the superior bless- 
ings of citizenship which this government bestows have 
fully comi)rehended and worthily appreciated the labors of 
that Convention which so successfully devised it. How 
few reflect and consider that it had no direct prototype in 
any pre-existing models of the republican forms of goyern- 
ment, either of ancient or modern times. Simple, grand^ 
and beautiful in its structure, the temple of freedom, it 
rose up amid the political fabrics of the world, marvelously 
springing into existence like the fair isle upheaved from the 
depths of the sea by the earthquake's throe or the splendid 
palace of fairy tale at the wave of the magician's wand. 

In the light of the events of history it may not be super- 
stitious or unreasonable to indulge the opinion, that the 
Divine Wisdom which by its fiat evoked earth's globose 
mass from the formless void and elanced it along its roll- 
ing way in all the freshness and beauty of its pristine crea- 
tion, did likewise inspire the minds and guide the delibe- 
rations of the legislative bodies which directed the strug- 
gles of the Colonies for independence and which formed 
"that immortal league of love which bound them in one 
broad empire. State with State." It is a divine teaching- 
that God often raises up men for special purposes as he 
did Cyrus of old, and the "inspiration of the Lord giveth 
them understanding." What gratitude is due from the 
American people through all time to the God of heaven 
and earth, the Giver of all good, that in the distribution of 
political blessings, he hath made their country the glory 
of all lands and the joy of all people ! Shall there be no- 



28 Southern Literature. 

recognition of divine favor? Shall there be no gratulation 
to God by the people in their national capacity and at stated 
periods in perpetual memorial of his special favor and 
mercy to them in directing those events which have made 
them "a great nation"? Shall the Senate of pagan Rome 
in former times decree an offering of praise throughout all 
its shrines and temples to Jupiter Stator, the fabled god of 
their worship, for the preservation of the city and of the re- 
public from the destruction threatened by the conspiracy of 
Catiline, and Christian America have no votive tribute of 
homage to him who is Jehovah, and to them as to the Is- 
raelites of old, the Lord God, who broke from their 
necks the yoke of the oppressor? Should his overruling 
Providence be ignored in national affairs and not even an 
altar be erected as was raised by the Athenians on Mars' hill 
with the inscription "To the L^nknown God," lest it might 
be construed-as a political infringement of the Constitution, 
in that it would be uniting Church and State? 

This is the closing sketch in the review of Jefferson as 
a political writer of the South. The task was undertaken 
to vindicate the Soutli from the charge of literary pauper- 
ism, and not with the design to preserve the name of Jef- 
ferson from oblivion or with the hope to add anything to 
his illustrious greatness. His own deeds of statesman- 
ship have immortalized him. His political career was not 
that of the meteor that shoots athwart the sky and is then 
lost in darkness ; but that of the luminary which, when no 
longer visible, leaves a hemisphere radiant with its beams 
•of light. He has built his own monument of fame in the 
productions of his pen, and one more enduring than the 
statue of unmouldering bronze with which Virginia has 
honored him and placed within the shadow of its capitol, 
to perpetuate his memory to future ages. 



JAMES MADISON. 



It is an apothegm of the distinguished English historian 
and brilliant essayist Macaulay, that great men do not come 
singly, but appear in groups upon the world's theater of ac- 



James Madison. ^9 

tion, when those achievements are to be wrought which un- 
settle or fix the destiny of nations. This was singularly il- 
lustrated in that epoch of American history characterized 
by the struggle of the Colonies for liberty and independ- 
ence, and their erection into a nationality as the United 
States of America. Grand and heroic were the minds need- 
ed for the consummation of that event which was to be 
" the noblest as well as the latest offspring of time," and 
destined to exert a renovating" and exalting influence upon 
humanity in all its interests throughout the habitable globe. 

The human mind is accustomed to magnify the men and 
things of the past, and as they appear through the dim 
vista of vanished years, imagination attributes to them the 
possession of virtues not now to mortals given. '"There were 
giants in those days," is the record biblical history makes of 
-the antediluvian age. Old Rome and classic Greece exalted 
the heroes of their primeval days to demigods. The x^mer- 
ican people can not too highly exalt the leading spirits who 
guided the Revolution to a successful issue and wisely laid 
the foundation of their free institutions. Their moral and 
intellectual greatness will stand the test when brought to the 
severest investigation. They were a constellation bright, 
which the telescope of time has resolved into stars of the 
first magnitude. 

The South was largely and nobly represented during the 
Revolution on the political arena as well as the tented field. 
It furnished the author that drafted the great charter of 
colonial rights, the orator whose impassioned eloquence gave 
impulse to the ball of the Revolution, and the military chief- 
tain who witb magnetic power held together the weak and 
scattered forces of the struggling colonies through the te- 
dious years of the war and by his genius invested them with 
the might of victory. Among those revolutionary worthies 
may be enrolled James Madison. He was not a prominenr 
actor in the first scenes of the stirring drama of the Revo- 
lution, but came upon the stage of action at the darkest 
hour of the strife, and as a member of the Continental Con- 
gress served his country in a legislative capacity. He was a 
potent master of the pen, and in his hand it became a thing 



30 CJOT7THERN l^ITERATURK. 

"mightier than the sword" wielded in the serried ranks of 
war. 

Madison cherished the most advanced and enlightened 
ideas of political and religious freedom. He, at an early 
period of life, in a "local contest for religious toleration," 
distinguished himself as a zealous and active advocate and 
defender of the freedom of conscience. In 1784, when it 
was projected in the Assembly of Virginia, of which he was 
a member, to make "a general assessment for the support of 
religion," he prepared a memorial and remonstrance against 
the measure which utterly defeated it. 

He was a member of the convention that framed the Con- 
stitution. He first appears prominently as a political writer 
in a series of articles written in connection with Jay and 
Hamilton in support of the Constitution and of its adoption 
by the States. They were published at that time in a New 
York newspaper, but have since been collected and printed in 
book-form with the title of "The Federalists." 

The Constitution was not an exponent of the theory of 
national government which he favored. But wisely con- 
sidering the exigencies of the country and the imperative 
necessity for a more efficient system of government than 
was embraced in the Articles of Confederation, in the gran- 
deur of true patriotism he rose above the pride of personal 
opinion, and labored strenuously for the adoption of the 
Constitution as the best organization of a union of the 
States that could be effected under the antagonism of views 
that existed. The Federalists "remains the most forcible 
exposition upon the side espoused," and has been ranked 
with the "most famous political writings of the Old Eng- 
lish worthies." 

Nearly a century has elapsed since the adoption of the 
Constitution. As the repository of the principles which un- 
derlie the foundation and must ever control in the admin- 
istration of the government as a Republic it can never be- 
come obsolete as an old musty record of the past. The 
profundity of interest which nnist ever invest it, not sim- 
ply as the bond of political union to the States, but as has 
been decided by the umpirage of war, the fabric of national 



JAMES MADISON. j^l 

government to whose supreme power the States in their 
sovereign capacity must be subordinate, has been increased 
instead of being diminished by the lapse of time and the re- 
sults of its practical operation. 

The complex character of the Constitution, embodying as 
it does State and national governments, and the want of 
accurate delineation of the respective powers of each, has 
made the construction of its principles and provisions the 
prolific source of controversy and the origin of the rival 
political parties that under various appellations have divided 
the country and have contended at each quadrennial elec- 
tion for the reins of government. Although it has been 
made through every period of the past the subject of dis- 
cussion that immerged even into the strife of the battle- 
field, yet from the very nature of things the question of its 
construction will be constantly recurring as exigencies in the 
future arise. 

The opinions of the founders of the Republic upon the 
Constitution should be entitled to the highest regard from 
posterity. It is to the principles of government as enuncia- 
ted by them that the American people as a nation must look 
iDack, as to the Polar star, whereby to direct their political 
"bark, and as furnishing the criterion alone that will enable 
them to judge of all aberrations from the right line of origi- 
nal and uncontaminated republicanism. It is a sad com- 
ment upon the political character of the times that the Con- 
stitution, the organic law of the land, is considered as pos- 
sessed of such elastic properties that it can be so contracted 
or expanded in its meaning as to suit the purposes of the dom- 
inant party, like the magic fan of fairy legend which could 
be folded in the hand or spread out as a tent to shelter an 
army. The experience and wisdom of past generations 
should serve as beacon fires to illuminate the present. The 
boon of constitutional liberty should be sacredly guarded. 
Eternal vigilance should be exercised by a free people, not 
only against the insidious arts of ambitious demagogues or 
the incipient designs of military despots, but against the 
wild schemes of reform and innovation that may threaten 
^change to the fundamental principles of government. 



^2 SOUTHKRX LlTKRATUKK. 

The views of Madison upon the Constitution are worthy 
of profound consideration. He was a nienilxM- of that nota- 
ble body that franictl it, and as a statesman distin,c:uished 
for the conservative character of liis opinions. On account 
of his advocacy for the' adoption of the Constitution by the 
States he was styled a Federalist by the party who was op- 
posed to it. His views in regard to the federal govern- 
ment were set forth in a letter to Washington, previous to 
the meeting of the convention. In that letter he proposed 
"a scheme of thorough centralization." He expressed him- 
self as ecjually opposed to "the individual independence of 
the States and to the consolidation of the whole into one 
simple Republic." He also stated that he was in favor of 
investing Congrcf^ \^Mth power to exercise "a negative in all 
cases whatever on the legislative acts of the States, as here- 
tofore exercised by kingly prerogative." He desired that 
the right of coercion should be expressly declared, but on 
account of the difficulties of "forcing the collective will of a 
State, it was particularly desirable that the necessity of it 
should be iM-ecluded." 

From these extreme views Madison afterwards consci- 
entiously departed. The conflict between the powers of the 
State and the general government under the operation of 
the Alien and Sedition Acts enlisted him in defense of the 
sovereignty of the States. "Opposition to these violent 
measures having been inetTectual in the federal legislature 
the Republican leaders determined to resort to the State 
arenas for the decisive struggle." The letter now known 
as "the resolutions of 1798-9" was drawn up by James Mad- 
ison, and adopted by the Assembly of Virginia. The main 
features of these resolutions were the declaration "to re- 
sist all attempts to enlarge the authority of the federal 
compact by forced construction of the general clause of 
the Constitution and that in the exercise of powers not 
clearly granted to the general government the States had a 
right to interpose ; and that the passage of the Alien and 
Sedition laws was an infraction of right." Massachusetts 
and New England generally declared the obnoxious laws 
constitutiiMial and expedient. This drew forth Madison's 



jAaiKS Madison. 33 

Report in defense of his resolutions. "This elaborate pa- 
per subjected the resolves to an exhaustive analysis and 
defended them with masterly vigor. It is the most famous 
of his political writings, and will rank with the greatest 
State papers written in America." 

The firm attitude which V^irginia assumed, and the warlike 
preparations which she began to make to resist the en- 
croachment of the Federal power after the passage by her 
Assembly of "the resolutions of 1788-9," together with "a 
happy change in the sentiment of the country," stayed for 
the time the conflict of authority between the general gov- 
-crnment and the States involved in the enforcement of 
the Alien and Sedition laws. The momentous struggle as 
to supremacy between the government which had been 
created by the union of the States under the Constitution 
and their individual sovereignty considered as reserved, 
which was then portended, was delayed unto a later period 
in the history of the republic. 

It is an inquiry suggestive of profound reflection to con- 
sider why in the course of events, it came not to a decisive 
test until the States as a nation had become multitudinous 
in population, colossal in power, and had stretched their 
lines of territory across the continent from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific wave. The ordinary mind without any effort of 
thought may readily conceive that had the internecine strife 
occurred then as in after years, the States separate and in- 
dependent would have been small and feeble and have fallen 
prey to the threatening powers of France and Fngland ; 
and even if they had been divided into two sections by the 
famous geographical boundary so often quoted as "Mason 
and Dixon's line," and had been formed into distinct gov- 
ernments, they would not have achieved that grand career 
which has marked their destiny as an undivided realm. The 
thoughtful and pious spirit that discerns the operation of 
the Hand Divine as equally directing the course of human 
events as guiding the rolling of the planets, may be dee])ly 
impressed with the conviction that he who calms the 
stormy seas, by a special providence held in abeyance the 
waves of human passion that threatened the early disrup- 



34 Southern Literature. 

tion of the government, that he might build up in this wes- 
tern world a nation that would gloriously advance the civ- 
ilization and evangelization of mankind. 

The theory of the individual sovereignty of the State? 
is now a dream of the past. Like some majestic river with 
its current enlarged by the spring-tide of waters, the power 
of the central government, under the impetus given by the 
exigencies and results of the civil war, making crevasses 
in the barrier of States' rights designed to restrain it, now 
overspreads the whole ground of mooted prerogatives. 

The writings of Madison are voluminous. His manu- 
scripts were purchased by Congress from his widow for 
$30,000. Portions of them were published by the authority 
of Congress. This was an eminent mark of appreciation 
of merit rarely bestowed upon authors. Emanating from 
one of whom Jefferson said there was "no abler head in 
America," and embracing a thorough and lucid exposition 
of the fundamental principles of Republican Government as 
embodied in the Constitution, they were worthy of the 
lionor and preservation thus accorded them. The youth- 
ful American burning with ambition like Atheni.m Alcibi- 
iides to serve his country, who would engage in politics with 
a nobler object in view than the guerdon of office or the 
advancement of the interests of party, should make the po- 
litical writings of Madison and Jefferson the text-books of 
his studies. 

The steady and serene progress with which ALidison as- 
cended to the loftiest height of honor and the distinguished 
ability with which he served his country won for him an 
enduring renown. No need of public sympathy wrought 
by an untimely death from the hand of an assassin to en- 
circle the orb of his greatness with an aureola of magnified 
virtues, or to crystallize his memory in the tears of his peo- 
ple. Virginia, with a mingled feeling of affectionate attach- 
ment, insjiired by a confidence in his integrity and admi- 
ration for his illustrious talent, has given him an honored 
place in that group of her distinguished sons whose memory 
sJie has sought by the aid of statuary to immortalize in 
imperishable bronze. 



James Monroe. 35 



JAMES MONROE. 

Glorious Virg^inia ! Worthily is she called "The mother 
of statesmen." No State, ancient or modern, can exhibit 
a nobler list of civilians than those which adorned the early 
pages of her history. The ban of political proscription pro- 
nounced by a dominant sectional party which has held the 
fasces of national power for twenty years may preclude 
lier, as well as her sister Southern States, from all places 
of honor in the executive departments of government, but 
it can not blot out or obscure the brilliant glories of civic 
renown which encircle her name. The future historian, as 
"he glances with telescopic eye over the past, will behold in 
the nation's gallery of fame, as it runs along the line of 
ages, no nobler group of characters than those she fur- 
nished to guide the afifairs and shape the destiny of the 
country during the dark and perilous period of its infancy. 

As an eminent Southern statesman, historically associ- 
ated with Jefferson and Madison and considered as form- 
ing with them in the consecutive administration of the 
government an illustrious triumvirate, stands prominently 
forth James Monroe. Although the productions of his pen 
were limited, yet as one of the leading public men of that 
time and honored with the Chief Magistracy of the Re- 
public, his political views are entitled to notice. 

He was a member of the convention which Virginia 
■called to consider the adoption of the Constitution. He was 
opposed to the Constitution, as he thought "that without 
amendment it gave too great power to the general govern- 
ment." It is worthy of remark that this has been the char- 
acteristic sentiment of the South. It is a fact developed in 
"history that the people of more Southern latitudes have 
been distinguished for their ardent love of liberty. It may 
be that the fervid glow of the "sun's directer ray" ma\ 
impart to them that fiery nature that makes them more im- 
patient of the restrictions of arbitrary power than are the 
inhabitants of frigid climates. The love of liberty as em- 
"bodied in the doctrine of State sovereignty has been a cher- 



36 Southp:rn Literature. 

^ ishcil tenet in the politieal creed of the leathng- spirits of 
the South, from Jefferson to A. H. Stephens. It was in 
accordance with her dignity as a sovereign State and in the 
spirit of her motto "sic semper tyrannis," that Virginia es- 
poused the cause of her sister Southern States wlien the 
Federal Ciovernment denietl to them the right of secession 
and sought to coerce tliem hack into the Union. IJer maj- 
esty and power made her the hulwark of the South, and 
her geographical position exposed her to the fierce brunt 
of the civil war that ensued. She again became the theater 
of the battles of Freedom. Her soil was again drenched 
with the blood of her sons in defense of their wives, their 
children, antl their sacretl rights. Her wooded heights, hei 
beautiful valleys, and her peaceful ])lains became so many 
Thermopyhes and Marathons. Vov four long, weary years 
under her leadership the combined chivalry of the South 
in marshaled rank and with bristling bayonets beat back 
from her borders the |uiissaiU armies of the North ecjuipped 
with all the armaments of war and augmented by the swell- 
ing numbers which luu-ope, as a recruiting field, afforded. 
When the Southern Cross went down at Appomattox its 
occultation was not the ignominy of defeat, but the surren- 
der of heroic valor to overpowering might. 

Though ]\[onroe was not a voluminous writer, yet he 
enunciated political principles which have largely shaped' 
the policy of the nation and in their operation have per- 
haps exerted an iuHuence on its domestic affairs that can 
not measurably be computed. He counseled against "en- 
tanglement in the broils of Europe and of sutYering the 
jiowers of the old world to interfere with the affairs of 
the new," now generally known as the "Monroe Doc- 
trine." These political precepts have been wisely ob- 
served by the L'nited States and have contributed in no 
small degree to their prosperity and greatness. Espe- 
cially has this been the case in regard to the policy of op- 
posing the introduction of the European system of gov- 
ernment on this hemisphere. This idea indirectly gave 
origin and existence to that doctrine of the manifest des- 
tiny of the republic which has been a favorite tenet of 



Gkorge Washington. 37 

the Democratic party, and actiniL:: under whicli the terri- 
torial limits of the nation have heen expanded from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific and from the j:^reen savannas of 
the South, to the frozen regions of the North. It has 
])r()ven a Pandora's box to the republic. Whilst it has 
added to its physical resources, it has in its results dis- 
turbed the harmony of the Union even to the threatened 
severance of its bonds. 

The bronze vault in Greenwood cemetery, within 
range of vision as seen from the acropolis of Richmond, 
may hold in its chamber the ashes of Monroe, but the 
truths he uttered will still live and exalt their voice to 
future ages. He is worthily entitled to the pedestal of 
honor which Virginia has assigned to him in that monu- 
ment of Fame which she has erected to her illustrious 
"lead. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

The three great names Jefferson, Madison, and Mon- 
roe are not the only ones in the political history of Vir- 
g'inia deserving of the honoring tribute and notice of 
the pen. They were but a part of that brilliant throng 
whose talents and virtues as displayed in the sphere of 
public life shed an enduring luster upon the proud es- 
cutcheon of the "Old Dominion State." There were many 
who did not embody in elaborate treatise or state paper 
their views of government, having been content to act 
and speak in the living present without regard to a fu- 
ture or posthumous fame. The political precepts which fell 
from their lips were worthily entitled to have been pre- 
served in the cedared boards as the manuscripts of the 
sages of antiquity or perpetuated in the type of the printed 
page of modern times. 

First and foremost of this order of eminent men of the 
American Revolution who achieved no special political 
■distinction may be ranked Washington. His civic talents 
were lost "in the light of his superior glory as a military 



38 Southern Literature. 

chieftain." His "farewell address" on retiring from pub- 
lic life is filled with political wisdom hallowed by a spirit 
of sublime and eloquent patriotism. As a chart to guide 
the foreign and domestic policy of the United States it 
can never become obsolete as long as the true welfare of 
the country is regarded by its rulers. 

His deeds alone have made him immortal. All men 
stand with uncovered head and brow in reverence at the 
name of Washington. The North, strong and bitter as 
may be its sectional feeling and inappeasable rancor to- 
ward the South, accepts him "as first in war, first in 
peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." With 
undivided assent of heart and mind they yield homage 
to him as "The Father of his Country." Side by side 
with him, equal in honor and glory, if not superior, they 
place Lincoln and hail him as the savior of his country. 
Washington, by his sword, defended and preserved the 
liberties of the colonies and secured their independence. 
He was chosen and served as president of the infant 
republic established by the union of the States under one 
general government. Though at first only nine of the 
colonies or States had ratified the Constitution, the or- 
ganic framework of the republic, yet no hostile army- 
was employed to coerce the remainder into the L'^nion. 
Peace and harmony were the great objects and results 
of his administration, and he retired from office with the 
benedictions of his countrymen resting upon him. When 
he died a nation fell to tears. 



PATRICK HENRY. 



Among those potentates in the realm of thought and 
speech who by their labors helped to achieve American 
independence and lay the foundation of the government,, 
may be mentioned Patrick LTenry, styled "the forest-born 
Demosthenes." Scarcely a fragment remains of those 
burning and prescient truths which were uttered by him- 
upon whose lips the "mystic bee had dropped the honey 



George Y. Mason. 39 

of persuasion." Leaving no relics of his genius enshrined 
in the voiceless symbols of the press, he has floated down 
upon the stream of tradition enveloped in the airy concep- 
tion with which Apollo, the old Greek god of eloquence, 
is viewed. 



GEORGE Y. MASON. 

Equally deserving of notice is George Y. Mason, whose 
name was affixed in bold subscription to the Declaration of 
Independence. He was an ardent lover of liberty. He 
opposed the adoption of the Constitution because it circum- 
scribed the sovereignty of the States and provided for the per- 
petuation of African slavery. So great was the opposition to 
the Constitution that when it was adopted he would not ac- 
cept the position of senator under it. He predicted that 
the government it would inaugurate would lapse into a 
monarchy or become tyrannical aristocracy. The experi- 
ment of a hundred years has not confirmed his prognos- 
tications. The curule chair of the republic has not been 
converted into a kingly throne, nor have any of its rulers 
assumed the imperial title of Augustus. A rigid exclu- 
sion of all titles of nobility and all social distinctions of 
birth and fortune have precluded the growth and estab- 
lishment of a governmental aristocracy. Mental and moral 
qualifications in the main have guided the people in the 
selection of their officials. No shadow of tyranny has 
tfallen upon the nation unless that of the plutocracy formed 
by the bondholders of the present time. Even their grind- 
ing financial despotism is attended with reciprocating ben- 
efits to the country. Their immense capital is employed 
in developing the physical resources of the country by the 
construction of vast lines of railroad through the unpeo- 
pled wilderness. 

Mason was not the only Southern man that deprecated the 
existence of slavery. The institution of slavery as a 
social feature of the Southern States is now extinct. It 
was abolished at the expense of a vast amount of blood 



,)() Sdi'Tiiiirn Lri'ivKA'prRic. 

.111(1 trc.-isurc. After an interval of twenty years since 
its abolition, with mind uiihiased hy sectional passions, 
the (|iiestion of slavery, so loni;- the a.^ilatint:^ soiu'ce of 
strife between the North and South, may now lie calmly 
considered. It m.i\- lia\r lieen best for the Sonth to 
have Consented to its abnlition at the formation of the 
Pfovcrnniriit. The institution h:is been to it a mixture of 
q'ood and evil, whilst it has contributed largely to the 
i;eneral prosperity of the nation. Without the aid of 
slavery Southern emis^ration wt)uld not have llowed so 
rapidly westward and would not have consummated 
foi" the I iiiled !~>tates th.it ac(|uisition of territory em- 
braced by the .States o\ b'lorida and Texas with their 
semi-tropical climates. Without the aid of slave labor 
Southern industry could not have occupied the malarial 
districts of the lower tier of States, and transformed them 
into broad belts of fertile soil, rich in the "mimic snow 
of the cotton," thi> wrdurous e\]ianse of cane, and "the 
m'olden robes iA the riee lield," and with these tropical 
products h;i\'e made the American cornucopia indeed the 
horn of luerllow iiiL; abuiulance. 

The New l'ai,i;land .States have especially been the ben- 
eficiaries of the products oi slave labor. The staple fur- 
nished by the cotton fields of the Stnith built up their 
manufacturing c'st.ablishments, and thereby i;a\e employ- 
ment to llu'ir leeiniiii.; population, and ixnired wialth into 
their lap. 



wiLi.i.\.M iii:xuv WlkT. 

.Amonq- the distini^uished characters whose brilliant tal- 
ents .u.i\e them distinction and crowncil \'irs;inia with 
honor may also be mentioned William Henry Wirt. At- 
lorney-tleneral oi the I'nited States. He was considered 
an ornament to the American bar. thou,>;h he achieved no 
reputation as ;\ political writer. .As a lawyer, with all the 
accoutrements which profmnul legal attainments, exuber- 
ant fanc\ and splendid dictitMi coulil furnish, he swe]it m 



John C. Camioun. 41 

g^allant tilt through the forensic list, like the knight of 
medieval age, in jianoply of gold and silver, upon rush- 
ing steed in the jousts of the tournament. His speech in 
the celebrated case of Burr and l>lennerhassct, has been 
transmitted as a model of g;orgeous and eloquent comj^o- 
sition. The chief production of his pen was the biogra- 
])hy of Patrick Henry. In this loved task he culled the 
fairest flowers from the held of classic Eng-lish thai he 
might weave them into a wreath of fame to encircle the 
memory of the immortal Henry. 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 

The astronomer, in his lonely contemplation of the noc- 
turnal skies, observes that the stars in their constellated 
beauty and their apparent motion from east to west, ad- 
vance along the cerulean vault, reach the meridian and 
gradually sink below the western horizon. This l)rilliant 
panorama never ceases. Whilst the various constella- 
tions that appear sweep across the field of vision and 
linally i)ass to their occultation, other stars are constantly 
rising to supply their places in the hemisphere of night, 
rin's brilliant pageantry of the stellar universe may be 
chosen as a fit representation of what is presented in the 
moral world relative to the passing generations of men. 
Whilst those intellects which shine as lights to the world 
of mankind are moving in resplendent orbit to their Oc- 
cident to disappear beneath the horizon of time, other glo- 
rious minds rise to view. This state of things is exhibi- 
ted in the as])ect which is presented by the jiolitical sky 
of America. It was so thickly sown With intellectual leading- 
lights during the night of the revolution of '76 and in the 
infancy of the republic, that it blazed like a January 
heaven. When these were passing away, others ascended. 
When Jefferson, Monroe and others of the early states- 
men of the South passed from public life and service, 
they were succeeded by Calhoun, Clay and others. 

None occupied a more eminent position than Calhoun, 



42 Southern Literature. 

through his long political career. He was identified 
with every leading movement that had for its object the 
advancement of the welfare of the country. He held a 
high political place in the national legislature. As a mem- 
ber of the Senate of the United States, he adorned the 
councils of the country. No old Roman wore more wor- 
thily tlie senatorial robe. His political writings will form 
the topic of succeeding articles. Some of the political 
doctrines he promulgated and advocated are to-day live 
issues in the administration of the government. 

This distinguished statesman gave expression to his 
political views in his speeches delivered before the Senat« 
of the United States and in his popular addresses on 
various occasions. The main political production of his 
pen was a posthumous treatise "On the Constitution and 
Government of the United States." Scarcely a quarter 
of a century had elapsed since the adoption of the Con- 
stitution and the inauguration of its policy when he en- 
tered upon public life. His term of service in high of- 
ficial position extending through a generation, and con- 
temporaneous with an eveaitful period in the history of 
the American republic, his opinions are entitled to the 
consideration of posterity, although the eloquent tongue 
that spoke and the facile pen that recorded them have 
perished from amongst men. 

Like all contemporary Southern statesmen he was a 
zealous defender and advocate of the individual sover- 
eignty of the States under the compact as expressed by 
the Constitution. In the maintenance of this view "he 
fell under the accusation of pushing the doctrine of State 
rights to extremes." 

He was not a political malcontent or revolutionary in 
his sentiments, but regarded State sovereignty as essen- 
tial to maintaining an equilibrium of power among the 
States and the preservation of constitutional liberty. He 
turned his attention to the advocacy of this doctrine in 
opposing the oppression of the Southern States which 
would be produced by the protective system embraced in 
the tariff of 1828, enacted by Congress. Building on the 



John C. Calhoun. 43 

Virginia and Kentucky resolutions of 1798-99, he pro- 
pounded the doctrine of nuUification, that is to say, the 
right of each State to prevent the execution within her 
Hinits of such acts of Congress as she might judge uncon- 
stitutional. He embodied this doctrine in an elaborate 
paper prepared in the summer of 1828, and which became 
known as the "South Carolina Exposition." 

The political views of Mr. Calhoun thus expressed, 
"with softening modifications," were presented to the leg- 
islature of South Carolina, and were ordered to be printed. 
The conduct of South Carolina during this period has 
been the subject of much animadversion, and has served 
to excite the prejudice of her sister States against her. Yet 
her attitude in this eventful crisis marked her as the bold 
and firm opponent of the encroachment of Federal power 
in the execution of a law she considered as tyrannically op- 
pressive. It was in accordance with her past historical 
record that she should occupy such a position. The love of 
liberty was coeval with her political existence. She was 
colonized by those who had fled to the wilds of America 
to escape the political and religious oppression of their na- 
tive countries in Europe. She had acted a gallant and pa- 
triotic part in the colonial struggle for independence. She 
has a list of bright names on her revolutionary roll, whose 
deeds have entitled theiii to immortal renown in history. 
Well may she be styled the Attica of America in view of 
the ardent love of her people for liberty, and their cultivation 
and refinement. Though she has been made the subject 
of obloquy and oppression on account of her part in the 
late civil war, and through her discomfiture in the project 
of secession she has been brought low, yet every generous 
spirit will do her reverence. Such a people and such a State 
did Mr. Calhoun represent. He was a worthy son of a noble 
mother. 

Among the powers expressly named in the articles of the 
Constitution, as granted to the general government by the 
States, is that of the coining of money, the establishment 
and regulation of a national currency. The creation and 
adoption of a financial system is a matter of vital impor- 



44 S()UTiii:rx Liticuaturk. 

tanco to every civili/A-d nation. 'I'lie institution of a com- 
mercial nuMlinm is an essential characteristic of civilization, 
and tlie lirst slep of mankind from a State of barbarism. 
l'"rom the earliest period of anti(|uity some medium has 
been ailopted fur ilie purpose of connuercial intercourse, 
either fortiiMi or domestic. Ciold, either in coin or bullion, 
has luH'ii ihe medium nmsl cornDKinly (.'mplMyi'd. It was, 
ho\ve\er, lars^ely dependent upon the natural i)roducts of the 
country, whether they were ai^ricnltural or mineral. Amontj 
the enliL',hli'ned nations of ancient times .ijold or silver coin 
was used. There is one noted exce])tion to this custom in 
the case of ancienl 1 ,aceil;emon. L\cur^ns, in the code of 
laws wdnch he de\iseil for tlu- ."Spartan commonwealth, pre- 
scribed the adoption of iron coin as the circulatiui; medium, 
in order to securi' the jieople a.^ainsl the corrupting;- iniUi- 
cnce of avarice and the iiiervatin;;- elTects of luxury. Anionic 
sa\ai;e nations we lind the nse i^i cowries. ;is in the case 
of tlu- Irilu's of Africa, and wampum belts amony the .\mer- 
ican Imli.ins. 

The institution and a(lo])tion of :\ fmanci.al system which 
wonld setMU'c a sound and uniform currency was a (juestion 
that demanded the e;irl\ consideration of the L'nitctl States 
in their or}.;ani/.ation of a general i^overnment. The Con- 
tinental Congress, as enijowered by the "Articles oi ( on- 
fiMler.ition" imder which the Colonies had united, had 
passed an act anthori/injL; the issue of a ])aper currency, 
;it an earl\ period t\\ the w;tr. in order to detray the ex- 
penses of the i;o\ernnienl. I lion>;h the i^ri'at work ol in- 
dependence i\ad been achieved, yel at the close of the slrui;- 
i;lc the country was in an imjiovcrishetl cimdition and with 
a currency so depreciated as to be almost worthless. 

Various measures were adoi)leil by the C'ontinental Con- 
j^'ress duriuj;- the peiiod of its existi'uce to meet the commer- 
cial cxii^^cncics oi the comitry. The monetary condition of 
the country continued to be characterized by uncertainty, 
di'pression and disaster. 'i"he fmancial distress of the i;ov- 
ermuenl became so threat that in 1S14 the institution of a 
national bank became a (luestion much as;itated. It was a 
measm"e advocated by Mr. L'alhoun, anil a plan iov the op- 



John C. Camioun. • 45 

cralioii of a nalional I)aiik was ])rcsc'iUe(l l)y Iiim lo Con- 
gress. The outlines and merits of the ])lan lie ])r()|)ose(l will 
be the subjeet of future artieles. 

Universality of j^enius is ni)t eoninion. Tlunij^h Mr. Cal- 
houn was aeute, analytieal, and oris^inal upon every subjeet, 
and disposed to traee out cvcrythinj;- to its ultimate results, 
yet he was not eonsidercd to have been endowed with niark-ed 
or brilliant financial genius. To evolve a bnxid system of 
finance adequate to the wants of a nation, to grasp all the 
details and remote bearings of its operation, is a faculty of 
mind which few have been found to possess. History tells 
of a Neeker in the past of the French government and of a 
( lould of the ])rescnt day, whose gigantic minds were ca- 
pable of projecting and consummating plans of financial pol- 
icy with marvclously unerring intuition. Yet the present 
time seems tf) be prolific of financial talent and to furnish 
exception lo all former exhibiticjus of tact. Not content with 
the present financial system of the country, there are nud- 
li])lie(l thousands who would address themselves to the 
task of improving it. The orator from the tribune or in 
the halls of Congress, the editor from the tripod through 
the colunms of his paper, with assumed oracular wisdom, 
descant upon the great question. Tf the nation will but 
only adopt and follow their plans, all the present evils will 
be removed, and that happy ITopian period when financial 
distress will be, dissipated would soon be introduced every- 
where. 

The main features of the national bank ])roposefl by Mr. 
Calhoun, were thai it shoidd be "specie paying, wholly under 
private contrcjl, and not obliged to lend to the government 
anything. The capital of this bank was to consist of $5,- 
000,000 of specie and $15,000,000 of new treasury notes, 
which it was proposed to get into circulation by making 
them convertible into bank stock. This jiroject prevailetl 
in the house by a large majority." It was finally defeated 
through a labored report of Mr. Dallas, Secretary of the 
Treasury at that time, in which be exhibited the injustice 
and political danger of the scheme involved in the bill pro- 
posed by Mr. Calhoim. However, in the compromise 



46 Southern Literature. 

scheme for a bank, which was adopted, the great points of 
Mr. Calhoun's plan, were still preserved — that is to say. 
the bank was not obliged to lend to the government, nor 
suspend specie payment. The bill which embraced tliis 
•scheme was vetoed by President Madison as "being inade- 
quate to the emergency." The project of a United States 
bank was revived during the 14th Congress, resulting in 
the charter of the Bank of the United States. 

The subsequent political history of Mr. Calhoun records 
a radical change in his views of a national financial sys- 
tem. "President Van Buren recommended to Congress the 
policy of discontinuing the use of banks as the fiscal agents 
of the government. He proposed the custody of the public 
money by officers specially appointed for that purpose, and 
the exclusive use of coin on the part of the government. 
Calhoun separating from the Whigs, with whom he had acted 
in the struggle on the bank question, gave energetic support 
to this new system of policy." His speech in the Senate on 
the Independent Treasury bill in 1838 is an exhibit of his 
views of the system of financial policy which the nation 
should adopt. To this speech Mr. Clay replied. These 
two colossal minds met in fierce conflict upon the arena 
of debate, and each delivered a speech upon the occasion 
which they severally regarded as a vindication of their pub- 
lic life. Many years have elapsed since then, but time has 
not fully tested the views of either of these distinguished 
statesmen of the past, and which system of financial policy 
is best adapted to the country is still to be subjected to the 
crucible of experiment. 

As an orator Mr. Calhoun is eloquently portrayed by 
two of his contemporaries and fellow-members of Con- 
gress, and that at two different epochs of his life, which 
may account for an apparent discrepancy in the two por- 
traitures given. Thus Henry Richard Wilde, member of 
Congress from Georgia, in his reminiscences of "The Four- 
teenth Congress," says of Mr. Calhoun : "There was, also, 
a son of South Carolina still in the service of the republic, 
then, undoubtedly, the most influential member of this 
house. With a genius eminently metaphysical, he applied 



Henry Clay. 47 

to politics his habits of analysis, abstraction and conden- 
sation, and thus gave to the problems of government 
something of that grandeur which the higher mathematics 
have borrowed from astronomy. Engrossed with his sub- 
ject, careless of his words, his eloquence was sometimes 
followed by colloquial or provincial barbarisms. But, 
though often incorrect, he was always fascinating. Lan- 
guage, with him, was merely the scaffolding of thought, 
employed to raise a .dome, which like Angelo's, he sus- 
pended in the heavens." At this period Mr. Calhoun was 
in the prime of manhood and a member of the House of 
Representatives. 

The Hon. Henry W. Hilliard, member of Congress 
from Alabama (1851), and likewise a contemporary, says: 
^'Mr. Calhoun (who was then in the Senate) was the fin- 
•est type of the pure Greek intellect which this country has 
ever produced. His speeches resemble Grecian sculpture, 
with all the purity and hardness of marble, while they 
show that the chisel was guided by the hand of a master. 
Demosthenes transcribed the history of Thucydides eight 
times, that he might acquire the strength and majesty of 
his style, and Mr. Calhoun had evidently studied the ora- 
tions of the great Athenian with equal fidelity. He had 
much of his force and ardor, and his bearing was so full 
of dignity that it was easy to fancy when you heard 
him, that you were listening to an oration from the lips 
d|f a Roman senator who had formed his style in the 
severe schools of Greece." 



HENRY CLAY. 



No tongue or pen may add to or subtract from the 
honor due the illustrious dead and the memory of their 
virtues. As history has recorded their deeds, and the mar- 
ble and bronze in statue and in column stand as silent memo- 
rials to perpetuate their fame, there seems to be no need 
from living hand to mention their names, or render tribute 
•of eulogy to them. It is well, however, to recall them to the 



48 Southern Literature. 

minds of the living;, that their heroic deeds and examples 
of virtue may be kept fresh before the minds of men and 
continue to benefit the world. It is well to revive the rec- 
ollection of them by the relation of some personal reminis- 
cence or incident in their lives unrecorded. This is the 
object of the writer in giving to the public this sketch of 
Henry Clay, the orator and statesman. 

When a boy, he had the pleasure and privilege of seeing 
Mr. Clay, and of being an eye-witness of the amusing in- 
cident that occurred with the great statesman, and which 
is related at the close of this article, during his southern 
tour in the spring of 1844, when he was a candidate for 
the presidential nomination at the hands of the Whig party. 
]\Ir. Clay traveled by stage-coach en route from Columbus 
to Macon, Ga. As the time at which he would pass through 
Thomaston, Upson county, would be near noon, the citi- 
zens decided to honor him with a public reception and ban- 
quet. On the day that he was to arrive at Thomaston, men, 
women and children thronged the town desirous to see Mr. 
Clay. At the expected hour, 10 o'clock a. m., the shrill 
winding notes of the stage-driver's bugle were heard, an- 
nouncing the approach of the coach, and the coming and 
presence of the distinguished visitor and guest of the peo- 
ple. Up into the town, to the court-house the coach is 
driven. All eyes are turned to the opening of the coach 
door to catch their first sight of him whose fame had filled 
the land, ^sone present had ever seen him. Perhaps few 
had ever seen a crude engraving of him. As the occupants 
of the coach came forth, none needed any one to tell which 
one was Mr. Clay or to distinguish him from those who 
were the companions of his travel. Nature had set upon 
him the seal of greatness in the attributes of his person, as 
indicated in his lofty stature, the capacious mouth, the fore- 
head high, expansive and expressive of intellectual power, 
the eyes eloquent with thought and feeling, and the counte- 
nance animate with the spirit of benevolence, all well sus- 
tained by the dignity of dress and courtliness of manner. 
1 he committee of reception received and conducted Mr. 
Clay into the court-room. The people greeted him with 
joyful acclamations. The chairman of the assembly. Cap- 



Henry Clay. 49 

tain Edward Holloway, tall, stately, with his iron-gray locks 
flowing- down his shoulders, in manners a gentleman of the 
old school, presided with dignity worthy of the occasion. 
The speech of welcome was delivered by the Hon. J. J. 
Carey, a rising young lawyer. Mr. Clay made a short ad- 
dress in response. One figure of speech which he employed 
recurs to mind, wherein he compared himself, pursued by 
the malice of his political foes, to the noble stag of the for- 
est chased by the hound with that "deep hate that never 
tires." The speech of TMr. Clay being ended, the large 
crowd of men and women present received severally an in- 
troduction to him. Among them was an old gentleman of 
the name of Nasworthy, a farmer, who was fond of his 
dram and had freely indulged in his potations that morn- 
ing, as his rubicund countenance showed. Being introduced 
to Mr. Clay, he cries out as he shakes his hand, "Here is 
the old cream-a-tartar." What Mr. Clay said in reply to 
this salutation was lost in the hum and noise of the crowd. 
A broad smile was seen passing over his countenance, and 
w^e presume that it formed in after years an amusing rem- 
iniscence of his Southern tour. 

Whether or not Mr. Clay, in the brief speech he made 
on the occasion as recited, met the popular expectation in 
regard to his reputation as an eloquent orator, the writer 
can not say. The voice of history and tradition places him 
first and foremost in the annals of /American eloquence and 
statesmanship. This is the more wonderful, as the facts 
concerning his boyhood show that he had but few facilities 
for intellectual culture. He was born in Hanover county, 
Virginia, April 12, 1777. When a child his parents moved 
to Kentucky, which, at that time, was being settled by pio- 
neers from the Atlantic States. From the very nature and 
condition of things his educational privileges were few and 
limited in their scope. It is said that the spirit of ambi- 
tion and the desire for intellectual improvement appeared 
in him at an early age. It is also told of him that he was 
accustomed to declaim among the cattle in the stalls the 
speeches he had learned in his moments of leisure. Books, 
those precious instrumentalities so well fitted for training 
the mind and storing it with ihe wisdom of the past, were 

4 si 



50 Southern Litkrature. 

few and difficult to be obtained. Tie received only the e^r- 
nients of what nia}' be termed an Eiif^lish education. The 
study of grammar, so essential to the culture and acqui- 
sition of stren<^th, beauty and precision both of oral and 
written speech, had but a small place in the curriculum of 
the common schools of that day. 

Tt is interesting to note and consider the educational 
facilities and rhetorical training of this American orator 
for the sphere of public speaking as comparcxl with that of 
Cicero of ]\oman fame. In historical account of this orator 
of anticjuity it is stated that he began the work of his in- 
tellectual training when he was five years old under the 
l)oet Archias at Rome. The language and literature ol 
Greece formed a part of his early studies, and were assFd- 
uously cultivated by him through life under various pre- 
ceptors at Rome and Athens. This was of the greatest 
advantage to him, as it enabled him to "enrich his idiom 
•with the treasures of the Hellenic tongue, and to add still 
further grace and beauty to the Latin which was beginning 
to assume a more polished exterior from its ancient rus- 
ticity." 

This rhetorical training is of essential value and im- 
portance to the orator. Language is the divine characteris- 
tic of man. Tn connection with the endowment of reason 
the gift of articulate speech distinguishes him from the lower 
orders of the animal creation. Language forms the medium 
through which he communicates his thoughts, sentiments 
and emotions, and it is the golden link that binds the race 
together as social beings. "The heart of a people is in its 
mother tongue, and it is only by learning that mother 
tongue in all its fullness, variety and beauty, that we can 
know that heart. It is while listening to 'the thoughts that 
breathe and the words that burn' from the lips of her orators 
and the ]iens of her poets, historians and dramatists that 
you can feel that heart beating responsive." 

But in addition to this cultivation of language this an- 
cient orator devoted time and attention to the special and 
daily training of his voice in extemporaneous declama- 
tion under the instruction of the rhetorician Diodotus. By 
this means he formed his voice, which was harsh, weak aTid 



Hknry Clay. 51 

irrc£,ail<ir, so that it became full and sonorous, gained suf- 
ficient sweetness, and was brought to a proper degree of 
modulation. 

Though Mr. Clay had not this youthful and preliminary 
training in oratory as this renowned Roman, it was not by 
slow and insensible degrees that he gained the palm of elo- 
quence. His fame shot forth at once, and at the age of 
twenty-two years he had acquired a brilliant practice at the 
law. The genius and power of his oratory lay in the at- 
tributes of mind and i)crson that nature in rich munificence 
Tiad granted him, and in that rare combination that rendered 
him "genial, cordial, courteous, gracious, magnetic, win- 
ning," and gained for him not only the enthusiastic devotion 
of his frien(ls, and the triumphs and honors of eloquence on 
the arena of forensic and legislative debate, but with subtle 
fascination often won his political opponents to the support 
of his measures. In his success as an orator he illustrated 
the maxims which Cicero presents in his oration for Archias, 
the poet, when he says: 'T confess there have been many 
men of superior ability and merit, and that, without the aid 
•of learning; by the almost divine influence of nature it- 
self they have become, by their own exertions, discreet and 
influential men. Also, I add to this, that natural abilities 
-without the aid of learning have oftener availed more 
for the purposes of fame and virtue than learning without 
natural talent. And yet, says he, I, at the same time, con- 
tend, that when to natural abilities of an exalted and bril- 
liant character there are added the directing influence, 
as it were, and the molding power of learning, fairer and 
nobler results will be produced." 

Though Mr. Clay in his literary pursuits had not drunk 
from Old Rome's classic rill, nor from the Pierian fount of 
Greek learning, nor deeply from the well of English litera- 
ture, yet his language was terse, pure and of strong Anglo- 
Saxon strain, as his published speeches, his remains as a 
political writer, clearly show. The retort which he made in 
defense of his philology in reply to an opponent in debate 
"before the Senate, who had seen fit to criticize his diction, 
-was dignified and just. 

It is within the bosom and under the benign influence of 



52 Southern Literature. 

republics, that oratory has most happily flourished, "like a 
flower in its native bed." The love of country and of 
freedom imbibed in the soul have produced the noblest 
strains of eloquence recorded on the pages of history. The 
burning Philippics of Demosthenes awoke the Athenians 
from their delusive dream of security, and aroused them 
to resist the crafty schemes and purposes of the Macedo- 
nian king who would enslave Greece. The polished ora- 
tions of Cicero rescued Rome and banished Catiline, and 
preserved the liberties of the people. The fervid elo- 
quence of Mirabeau stirred the great popular heart of 
France, destroyed the Bastile, overthrew monarchy, and 
laid the foundation of a re])ublic. Mr. Clay, in this respect, 
had as strong and inspiring incentives as could be offered tcv 
inflame the soul of the orator in the young American repub- 
lic which had just sprung into political existence, and over 
which as his country floated the stars and stripes effulgent,, 
with the glory of warlike achievement and of inilependence 
gained, and having the eagle as the emblem of its undaunt- 
ed spirit and soaring ambition. The young nation, but a 
few millions in population, had before it a broad continent 
in all the pristine exuberance of nature for the scope of its 
expansion, and all bosoms beat responsive in heroic meas- 
ure to the grandeur and glory that gathered in brilliant 
augury around its undeveloped future. 

In 1806 and 1809 Mr. Clay was elected to the Senate 
of the United States. The Senate chamber and the floor of 
the House of Representatives were to be the future scenes 
of his career as an orator and a statesman. He. with Cal- 
houn and Webster, formed the triumvirate renowned in the 
annals of American statesmanship for their wisdom, elo- 
quence and the leading part that they individually and con- 
jointly played in the great measures of national legislation 
that aft'cctcd the vital weal and political existence of the 
republic. 

It was when 'Sir. Clay was making his s])eech against the 
Military Rill before the House of Representatives during 
the administration of Jackson, that, in order to show the 
danger to the liberties of the people from a standing armv, 
he appealed to the examples of Greece and Rome in the 



Henry Clay. 53 

past in the profound interro.s^ation "Where are they now ?'' 
He paused for a moment, raised his hand to his brow and 
shaded his eyes as if he would exclude the appalling vision 
his inquiry had awakened, then, resuming his former atti- 
tude, he exclaimed : 

" (xone glimmering through the dream of things that were; 
A schoolboy's tale — the wonder of an liour." 

This action of his had a thrilling effect upon his audi- 
tors, they presuming it to have been from deep emotion, 
and not, as it was, an involuntary act on his part to recall 
to mind the lines quoted. 

In his reminiscences of the Fourteenth Congress, of 
which he was a member, Richard Henry Wilde of Georgia, 
in speaking of Mr. Clay as an orator, says: "He was de- 
.ficient in rehnement rather than in strength, his style was 
less elegant and correct than animated and impressive. 
But it swept away your feelings with it like a mountain 
torrent, and the force of the stream left you but little lei- 
rsure to remark upon its clearness. . . On many occasions 
he was noble and captivating. One I can never forget. 
It was the fine burst of indignant eloquence with which he 
replied to the taunting question, 'What have we gained 
by the war?' " In commenting upon "The Illustrious Trio 
of Statesmen" (1852), Hon. H. W. Hilliard of Alabama, 
says: "As an orator, Mr. Clay stood unrivalled among the 
statesmen of our times, and if the power of a statesman 
is to be measured by the control which he exerts over an 
audience, he will take rank among the most illustrious men 
who, in ancient or modern times, have decided great ques- 
tions by resistless eloquence. . . Clear, convincing, im- 
passioned, and powerful, he spoke the language of truth 
in its most commanding tones, and the deductions of rea- 
son uttered from his lips seemed to have caught the glow 
■of inspiration." . . He realized Mr. Webster's descrip- 
tion of oratory: 'The clear conception outrunning the de- 
ductions of logic; the high purpose; the firm resolve; the 
dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the 
eye, informing every feature and urging the whole man on- 
ward, right onward, to his object; this, this is eloquence; 



54 Southern Literature. 

or, rather, it is something greater and higher than all elo- 
quence; it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action.'" 

As a statesman Henry Clay was worthy to appear on the 
roll in the line of immediate succession to Adams, Jeffer- 
son and those other statesmen of revolutionary fame who- 
had well and wisely laid the foundations of the republic. 
His talents were of that order and were so well adapted to 
meet, the exigencies that arose in the progress and develop- 
ment of the young nation, and the service which he rendered 
at various times in his capacity as legislator was so vitally 
connected with the well-being and prosperity of the country,, 
that it almost seems that in the plans of Divine Providence 
he was raised up and specially appointed for the time, place 
and work. 

Nurtured from boyhood amid the hardships and the 
easy freedom of pioneer life in the wilds of Kentucky and 
among a noble and chivalrous people, he came forth upon 
the arena of public life qualified for the exercise of free 
and independent thought and action. His after-life showed 
that his intellect was too kingly and his soul too manly 
for him to become the slave of a political creed or the 
pliant minion of a party. The grand, animating principle 
of his public life and acts was that of a pure and fervent 
patriotism. All considerations of party and of personal 
ambition or interests were subordinated to the welfare of the 
people. This he exhibited in 1820, during the violent agi~ 
tation of the question of slavery in Congress upon the ap- 
jilication of Maine and Missouri into the Union, and which 
threatened the dissolution of the young republic. He filled 
the breach as the author of the Alissouri Compromise bill. 
Through his tact and ability the measure was adopted by 
Congress and quiet was restored to the country. In 1833, 
when South Carolina passed a Nullification Act and civit 
war became imminent, he again appeared in the role of 
pacificator and by his diplomatic skill effected a compro- 
mise which restored tranquillity. So, in 1850. when the 
question of slavery was again agitated in Congress, by his 
efforts the impending struggle between the North and 
South was extended for ten years. These acts of Henry 
Clay constitute the basis of liis fame and greatness as ai 



Robert H. Toombs. 55 

statesman, and his claim upon the lasting gratitude of the 
American people. Neither Webster, Calhoun, McDuffie, 
Randolph, nor any other of his compeers, however rich in 
intellectual endowments, could have performed the part 
which Mr. Clay did in those great crises which arose in the 
administration of the government. He was peculiarly fit- 
ted for the delicate and difficult task, not only by breadth of 
mind but by those sympathies in life and character which 
give inspiration and render pathos and feeling more potent 
than logic and argument. 

History furnishes no sublimer instance of moral heroism 
and pure patriotism than when in response to those friends 
who importuned him not to take the course he did in re- 
gard to the tariff compromise, that it would lessen his 
chances for the presidency, he nobly replied, "I would rath- 
er be right than President." He then averted civil war 
and saved the Union by his compromise measures. There 
has been no deification of his memory by the American 
people as of their late modern heroes. He needs no monu- 
ment but his own simple greatness. He will be handed 
down to posterity as the matchless patriot, and in view of 
his statesmanship worthily crowned as the Sage of Ash- 
land. 



ROBERT H. TOOMBS. 

It is said of Diogenes, the cynic philosopher of ancient 
Athens, that he was seen one day traversing the streets of 
that city with a lighted lamp in his hand. When interro- 
gated as to the reason of his eccentric behavior, he replied : 
"I seek a man." What this noted, ascetic meant by this 
laconic answer awakens thoughtful inquiry. In the polite 
and classic city which he had chosen as his adopted home, 
there lived at this time Socrates and Plato, and each hout 
in the day he could see and meet with men of every degree 
of intelligence, social rank and moral excellence. It seems 
that he did not consider every one who bone the form of the 
genus homo to be entitled to the term man, which expressed 



r6 Southern Literature. 

the dignity of the human race. Was it merely an expres- 
sion of spleen on the part of this kuno-like philosopher, 
who made a tub his house, spurned all the delights of so- 
cial life and physical enjoyment, and who could discern nei- 
ther grace nor greatness in Alexander, the Macedonian 
hero, who condescended to visit him at his tub domicile? 
Or was it. that he esteemed it was necessary that certain 
virtues "should set their seal to the character to give the 
world assurance of a man?" 

The student of history, as he treads the dim aisles of the 
past or moves amidst the living throngs in the shifting 
drama of the present, will find many examples of a grand 
and noble manhood. Such did the Hon. Robert Toombs, 
Georgia's renowned son and the invincible Southern pa- 
triot, ]ircsent in his person, life and character. The old 
Athenian philosopher mentioned above could have exclaim- 
ed of him. "1 have found a man." Those who knew him 
from the brilliant dawn of his political life to its meridian 
glory remember well his grand physique and majesty of 
intellect which gave him magnetic power and won popular 
favor at a glance. It might be said of him. as Homer does 
of one of his heroes in the Iliad, that he looked like "one 
who might bare his breast to the b(~»lts of jove." He was 
the impersonation of the genius, chivalry and fervid oratory 
of the South. 

The writer -of this article had the privilege of seeing and 
hearing him speak during the political campaign when ]Mr. 
Toombs was a candidate of the Whig party for Congress. 
It was a hot day in July at the town of Thoniaston. Upson 
county, Georgia. The \\''higs. who wete in the majority 
both in the county and in tlie congressional district, hon- 
ored the occasion with a good old-fashioned barliecue. !Mr. 
Toombs was introduced to the audience by Major Grant, an 
old bachelor lawyer of the town, who, though he wore a 
wig and his style of dress was of a dignified antiquity, yet 
won all hearts with his handsome face and pleasing ad- 
dress. In his remarks he said that he knew that all the 
ladies present were Whigs and would not be Democrats. 
"Do you know, said he to them, what Democrat means? 
It is derived from two Greek words "demos," demon or de- 



Robert H. Toombs. 57 

vil, and "xrao," crazy, and he knew none of them wanted- 
to be called a crazy devil. This burlesque analysis of the 
word democrat amused the crowd then, but would not 
now please a southern political gathering, unless it was 
composed of Populists. But it did not equal the witty pun 
that flashed from the lips of Mr. Toombs, when, during his 
speech in defense of Whig principles and in behalf of Mr. 
Clay the presidential nominee of the party, a bench 
in front of the speaker's platform, upon which sat the 
belle of the county and her fair associates, broke, and they 
fell upon the ground, he exclaimed, "Another tendency to 
the "Clay." 

As a political speaker he was forcible and elo([ucnt, and 
like Demosthenes of ancient Greek fame, or Mirabeau of 
modern French note, he was by nature well fitted to meet 
the din and tumult of popular assemblies and to sway the 
fickle crowd with the charms of speech. It was not how- 
ever in the forum of the people, but in the halls of Con- 
gress that he won his greatest triumphs as an orator. 
These triumphs as they occurred are briefly and vividly pre- 
sented and described by Hon. A. H." Stephens in his history 
of the "War of the States." Mr. Stephens was the col- 
league of Mr. Toombs in a long period of congressional life, 
md of his magnificent cfl'orts of oratory could speak from 
personal kncjvvledge. 

There are four of these special instances of triumphant 
eloquence recited by Mr. Stephens. The character and oc- 
casion of each and every one was in defense of the doctrine 
of the political and practical equality and individual sov- 
ereignty of the States in the Union, and the full recognition 
of the fact in the division of territory acquired by common 
blood and treasure. The first mentioned by Mr. Ste])hens, 
with an extract from speech given, occurred on the 13th of 
December, during the 31st session of Congress. It was 
after nine days had been consumed in unsuccessful ballot- 
ing for speaker. "The Southern Whigs had stood aloof," 
says Mr. Stephens, "and did all in their power to prevent 
and organize under circumstances existing. The position 
•of these Whigs at that time was well known to be far a 
separation of the States or the abandonment by Congress 



58 S0UTIII':RN LlTKRATURK. 

of the .c^cnoral territorial restriction. The charfje of lieing" 
Disunionists was insinuated acjainst them. Mr. TotMuhs, in 
his own behalf, as well as in helialf of these Southern Whiles, 
rose up and delivered himself in bold, dashinj^:. impromptu, 
Mirabeau strain." The speech produced a profound sensa- 
tion in the House and in the country. It did not, however, 
assuag^e the bitterness and determination of the restriction- 
ists or antislavery party. 

The second instance of the mighty oratorical power of 
Mr. Toomb.s. recited by Mr. Stephens, in his history, was 
also durinjTf the same crisis in Conjii^ress. when he made a 
speech ap^ainst the plurality resolution which had been 
passed by the House in order to effect an orij'anization. 
"His speech." says Mr. Stejihens. "was a wonderful exhi- 
bition of physical and intellectual powers in this, that a 
sint^le man should have been able thus successfully to 
speak down a tunutltuous crowd, and. by declamatory denun- 
ciation combined with solid argmuent. silence an infuriated 
assembla.ge." 

The third instance which Mr. Stephens mentions was on 
the I5tli (if June, durins^ the same stormy and momentous 
session of the 31st Congress, when the question was put in 
debate, bv the ultra northern advocates, of the admission of 
California, if they would ever, under any circumstances, 
vote for the ailmission of a slave State into the Union. They 
refused to say they would. It was in this condition of af- 
fairs Mr. Toombs arose and took the floor. The time, 
the crisis, the audience, the question of debate, made the 
occasion a qrand historic picture, equal in glory if not in 
pageantry to that of the trial of Warren Hastings por- 
traveil by the historian in g-orgeous colors and hung up in 
the gallery of time. Says Mr. Stephens, the 31st Congress 
l^resented "the grandest intellectual constellation, moral 
qualities and all considered, which was ever beheld in the 
l^olitical firmament of this or any other country. The crown- 
ing- halo was imparted by Millard b'illmore, who presided 
over the whole as \'ice- President of the United States. Mr. 
Clay had been returned [o the Senate. He there met with 
Mr. Calhoun and Mr. \\'ebster, the other two of the il- 
lustrious trio of that ilay." xMr. Clay had made the greatest 



RoBiCRT H. Toombs. 59 

speech of his Hfe on the 29th of January (1850) on the 
crisis. Mr. Calhoun's sentiments written for the occa- 
sion, he beingf too feeble to speak, were read by Mr. Mason 
in tlie Senate on the 4th of March. Three days after Mr. 
Wcl)stcr made his famous Union speech. It was under 
sucli environments Mr. Toombs spoke on the 15th of June. 
It is said by Mr. Stephens that this speech produced the 
greatest sensation in the House that he had ever witnessed 
of any speech in that body. 

It may justly be said of him that he was born heir to "the 
purple" and the crown in the realm of oratory, and may be 
ranked among- the most illustrious orators of the nineteenth 
century. His fourth and last speech as reported by Mr, 
Stephens and with extract .given, was delivered by him in 
the Senate of the United States on the 7th of January, 
i86r, more than two weeks after South Carolina had passed 
the ordinance of secession. "This speech," says Mr. Steph- 
ens in his history of the war, "will take a place side by 
side with that of Pericles addressed to the Athenian Coun- 
cil just before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian war, 
thoug^h not analogous so far as the parties addressed are 
concerned. Its g-reatest power, however, consisted in the 
unquestionable facts upon which it rested." 

The four speeches cited by Mr. Stephens as delivered by 
Mr. Toombs on the occasions mentioned should be read 
and studied by all southern patriots, that they may learn 
and know all the facts connected with secession and the 
civil war, and be prepared to repel the charge of traitor 
and rebel with which northern fanaticism has souj:^ht to 
stig^matize the memory of those who fought for the South 
and its sacred riglits. These speeches at the time were 
reg^arded as "bullying, menacing' and insolent." Before 
this criticism can be accepted, the occasion and circum- 
stances must be considered. The peace, harmony, and 
perpetuity of the Union hung suspended upon the action of 
Congress, the legislative body which he addressed. The 
hour was ])erilous. There was a demand for language, 
strong, forcible, imperative. It was no time for parleying or 
shuffling. Then, the style of oratory always partakes large- 
ly of the temperament and character of the speaker. Mr. 



6o Southern Literature. 

Toombs by nature was frank, truthful, impulsive. He 
could not stop to untie the Gordian knot of debate, or seek 
to win by political strateg)'- that which was based upon the 
principles of truth, justice and right. 

As a statesman, Air. Toombs was regarded as one of the 
ablest men in th.e United States. He was the choice of the 
Georgia delegation for President in the secession conven- 
tion that met at Montgomery, Ala., on the 4th of February, 
1861, to organize a Provisional government for the South. 
Mr. Stephens in his history says of all the men in the Con- 
federate States, that he thought Mr. Toombs was by far 
the best fitted for that position, looking to all the qualifica- 
tions necessary to meet its full requirements. He abso- 
lutely forbade bis name to be used for that office. 

The speeches and character of Mr. Toombs have been 
much misrepresented. It has, however, happened that in 
the decrees of Eternal Justice that obtain in the affairs of 
men, he found in Mr. Stephens a just and loving biogra- 
])her, who has with historic pen vindicated his character 
from any and all aspersions. The tribute which Mr. Ste- 
phens in the ardor of his admiration and the loyalty of a 
lifelong friendship has paid to Air. Toombs, is a garland of 
honor fitly woven to encircle his name and memory. 

To Mr. Toombs the South was "the land of every land 
the pride" — his own, his native land. With its failure to 
succeed and gain its independence in the great sanguinary 
contest, his patriotism expired. He then had no country. 
He became politically self-expatriated. Her cause had been 
so true and just he could not accept of pardon as a 
rebel. "The Stars and Stripes," the old flag of the Union, 
might float over him, but he could not renew his allegiance 
to it. The clouds which gathered around the close of life 
with hirn in the defeat and subjugation of the South ob- 
scured his just fame and made its setting glory less re- 
splendent than if secession and war had never taken place. 



Alexander H. Stephens. 6i 



ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS. 

Sallust, the Latin historian, in the sparkling paragraph 
with which he introduces his history of the Jugurthine war, 
speaks of the influence the marble statues of her great men, 
with which Rome had adorned her capitol and streets, had 
upon her youth in inspiring them to heroic valor and patriot- 
ism. The American poet L^ongfellow tersely says "the lives 
of all great men remind us that we may make our own 
sublime." This is the design and should be the effect of these 
and all other biographical sketches. The gallery of Amer- 
ica's noted men presents to the youth of the country no one 
^vhose character and life were nobler and more worthy of 
imitation than that of Hon. A. H. Stephens. 

ivlr. Stephens needs no tongue or pen to proclaim to the 
people of the United States his greatness and his virtues. 
His biography has been written in full by that able South- 
ern autlior ]\lalcolm S. Johnston. What need then to re- 
vert to him ? Because his grand life, brilliant career, and un- 
blemished patriotism should be held in fresh and perpetual 
remembrance by the American and all the Southern peo- 
ple and be set forth to American youth to stimulate them- 
to a like career of glory and virtue. The writer of this 
sketch designs to relate only those incidents and to touch 
only upon those points in the life of Mr. Stephens as came 
under his personal observation or from the lips of those 
who knew him well. 

No period in the lives of men who stand distinguished 
in the annals of history forms a more interesting subject 
of inquiry and research than that of their boyhood. It is 
said the child is father to the man. Then the idiosyn- 
crasies of mind and character begin to appear, though not 
discerned or noticed. The anomalies which characterize 
]\Ir. Stephens physically, and the brilliancy of his intellect 
environ his boyhood with more than ordinary interest. It 
would present him as a timid, shrinking, thoughtful boy, 
of slender frame, emaciated features, with nothing but his 
keen black eyes to light up his countenance and to give evi- 



62 Southern Litkrature. 

dence of intellect, spending not his hours in sport as other 
boys, but hiding in the nook afforded by the closet under 
the stairway of the old homestead, seated in his little chair, 
he passed his time in reading. \\'ho could at that time have 
predicted of him that in after-life he would reach the Senate 
of the United States, he chosen Vice-President in that gov- 
ernment which the gallant people of the South sought to 
form for themselves, and fill this western hemisphere with 
the spotless renown of his name. How forcibly does this 
■display the glory of mind and the grand possibilities which 
•our republican institutions offer to every individual for 
1)romotii)n to honor and wealth. 

The love of reading in a boy as in ]\Ir. Stephens is a glo 
rious endowment, and the pledge and promise of futurt 
eminence. This is attested not only in the case of Mr. 
Stephens, but in that of Ben Franklin, Abe Lincoln and 
thousands of others who rose to distinction from humble 
poverty. Books when rightly handled are the tools neces- 
sary to the erection of the edifice of intellectual greatness. 
Strange it is to observe that with the nudtitude of books 
published and literature so cheap, how few readers there 
are, and how few families have any books outside of the 
weagcr outfit for school purposes. I-'ortunate is the boy 
or girl who loves to read. Still more blest are they whose 
taste leads them into the walks of standard English litera- 
ture. How few outside of the collegiate course in the En- 
glish classics learn or know anything of the immortal mas- 
ters of the English tongue. How few have read Milton, 
Young. Addison. Goldsmith, Pope, as poets and essayists, 
and Plume, Gibbon, Bisset, Smollett, as historians. How 
few these days have read or read Plutarch's "Lives" as the 
pasture-ground of great souls, or the place where great 
tsouls are nourished and fed. The literary aspiration of 
thousands of Southern youth is confined to the stutly and 
knowledge of their text-books at school ; to glean infor- 
mation from them sufficient to secure a third-, second- or 
first-grade certificate so as to teach school is the acme of 
their ambition. 

It may be said of Mr. Stephens as it was of the youthful 
English poet Chatterton, that he was "a marvelous boy." 



Alexander H. Stephens. 63 

The combination of the intellectual and the physical met in 
him in such rare disproportion that it placed him in the 
realm of the wonderful. He was at once the prodigy of the 
family circle and the pet of admiring friends. The in- 
tellectual light that gleamed forth in him as a boy like the 
lambent coruscations, as stated in ancient myth, that 
played around the heads of those in childhood whom the 
gods designed for glorious achievement, was regarded as 
prognostic of the halo of greatness and glory that would 
crown him in the coming years of manhood. It was de- 
cided that he was worthy of the high privilege of being sent 
to college. 

In those days a collegiate course was considered as the 
special literary boon and prerogative of the youth whose 
parents were wealthy and who with parental fondness de- 
sired to prepare their sons for professional life and to be- 
come statesmen. How changed are the circumstances and 
the condition of things since then ! How great are the 
scholastic privileges of the present generation ! So broad 
and general has education become in its higher immuni- 
ties and culture, that there is no let or limit to any one who 
desires to enter the portals of learning. Proper pecuniary 
assistance was afforded Mr. Stephens to enable him -to take 
a collegiate course. 

He entered Old Franklin, the State University of Geor- 
gia. Earnest and diligent as a student he drank deep from 
the fountains of learning — from old Rome's classic rill and 
from the Pierian spring of Greece. The one would train 
him in language to the smoothness of the Ciceronian period ; 
the other to the lofty flights of creative fancy. The study 
'of the classics added, precision, strength and grace to the 
Anglo-Saxon of Mr. Stephens as manifested in his oratory 
and his writings. 

The natural sciences have of late years in a measure 
superseded the ancient classics in the curriculum of the 
schools. Whilst this is the case, nevertheless, he who as 
a speaker and writer would have strength, purity and grace 
of language in the communication of thought must have 
Ihe philological training which comes through the early and 
•assidnotis studv of Greek and Latin. Ancient classical lit- 



64 SouTHKRN Literature. 

crature may be the "old gold" of learning, but it is pure 
though not garish. It has its appropriate emblem in the 
scepter of Mercury, the god of letters, which was composed 
of a rod entwined with two serpents and tipped with two 
wings — the rod denoting power, the serpents wisdom, and 
the wings diligence and activity. To the orator it is the 
wand of power and beauty — the golden rod of Hermes. 

It was in 1849 that the writer of this article first saw Mr. 
Stephens and heard him speak. His career hitherto was 
known to him only in faint report. Mr. Stephens had 
graduated, engaged in the law, had entered the field of 
politics, and had l)ecn elected to Congress. He now stood 
as commencement orator before a large audience at Emory 
College, Ga. As he then appeared he seemed to be of me- 
dium height, slenderly built, shoulders slightly stooped, hav- 
ing his hair closely cut and combed down low to a point 
in front, a fashion he had brought with him from his boy- 
hood days ; in the glance and flash of his penetrating black 
eyes alone could be discerned life and the spirit of intel- 
ligence ; he was in full-dress suit of broadcloth, and wore 
a gold fob-chain conspicuous for its size and length. Fresh 
froiu the halls of Congress, the nation's legislator, and with 
his peculiarities of person and dress, he could but strongly 
impress the youthful imagination. The president of the in- 
stitution. Dr. G. F. Pierce, in opening his address, remarked 
to the audience that he would be brief, as he would be fol- 
lowed by Mr. Stephens who would furnish the Chian wine 
for the entertainment. This pledge and promise and the 

full anticipation of the hour Mr. Stephens met in the pro- 
found and eloquent address which he delivered. It stands 
placed on imperishable record in extracts from it being 
published in the school readers of the land. 

The power of the orator lies much in the charm of his 
voice. This was the case with Mr. Spurgeon, the mellow 
notes of whose voice, in a measure, made his fame as the 
great orator of the nineteenth century. It is said of W'hite- 
field. the eloquent preacher, that such pathos was wrapped 
up in his voice that in thrice repeating the word "Alcso- 

j'.otamia," he made his congregation wee]). To those who 
had never heard Mr. Stephens speak, his voice at first 



Alexander H. Stephens. 65 

Avoukl be startling on account of its treble note. Having 
become accustomed to it, it would ring out in silvery ac- 
cents and fall upon the ear with fascinating spell. 

Though Mr. Stephens had not the charm of voice and 
the grace and majesty of person which at once with subtle 
magnetism penetrate and impress the popular mind, yet 
he acquired fame as an orator. It may have been that his 
power over the common mind was largely due to the mar- 
velous combination that he presented in the union of his 
unique and abnormal physical man with great intellectual 
acumen. It is the opinion of Hazlitt, the noted English 
essayist, that physical deficiencies give prominence and 
fame to men as well as absolute qualities and solid merits. 
It may be well to compare j\Ir. Stephens with the great 
Apostle of the Gentiles, as he serves fitly as counterpart, 
a parallel and a prototype. It was said of Paul that "his 
letters were weighty and powerful, but his bodily presence 
was weak and his speech contemptible." Does this com- 
parison of the great commoner to the chief apostle of 
Christianity show lack of reverence? We think not. Mr. 
Stephens was a remarkable man ; truly great in soul and 
wise in intellect, but had not the mystic glory of divine in- 
spiration resting upon him as the apostle had. 

The idiosyncrasy of the human mind is strikingly dis- 
played in the fixed and invariable association by the pub- 
lic of Mr. Stephens with a witty retort he made to an op- 
ponent in debate in early life. This opponent, whose name 
was T. Fouche, in the way of taunt or ridicule, alluding to 
the diminutive size of Mr. Stephens, said, that "if Mr. 
Stephens's ears (which were unusually large) were pinned 
behind his head, he ■ could swallow him whole." Mr. 
Stephens replied that "if he did he would have more brains 
in his belly than in his head." In such a trivial incident 
or speech is wrapped up the thing of popular fame. 

The writer heard Mr. Stephens in a speech two hours 
in length in the Temperance Hall at Columbus, Ga., when 
the great questic.i of the Missouri Compromise or the 
]~)rinciple of non-intervention in the establishment or pro- 
hibition of slavery in the territories was before the people 

5 si 



66 SouTin-.Rx LrrKRATURp:. 

in tile ])()litical campaign of 1850. ITc advocated the prin- 
ciple of non-intervention. 

Tlie grand etTort of bis life was the speech he delivered 
on the 14th of November, i860, at night during the seces- 
sion Convention at Milledgeville, Ga. The ''phonographed 
footprints" of that address which appears in his "War of 
the States " show it to have been truly eloquent. One who 
was present and heard it, and who was capal)le of judging, 
s]iokc of the' speech to the writer in glowing terms of eu- 
logy. He said at the close when Mr. Stephens, in eloquent 
apostrophe addressed the Old Flag, that the convention, 
composed of the intelligence and patriotism of the State, was 
in tears. 

The last public address of IMr. Stephens was delivered 
at Savannah, Ga., at the dedication of the monument erec- 
ted to the Confederate dead. lie was then Governor of 
< "icorgia, and in his official capacity represented the State 
in the ceremony. He was at that time in feeble health, and 
had to be borne about liy the assistance of others. How 
impressive the coincidence ]Mesented by the occasion. 
Life's sun was setting with him, yet during the evening 
hours of his earthly sojourn, ai such crisis he was called 
upon to do honor to the memory of those who had fallen 
in defense of the "Lost Cause." How the past loomed up 
before him — the secession of the States — the eventful foin* 
years' w'ar — the failure of the Confederacy wliich he had 
illustriously served as Vice-lVesident — the subjugation of 
a gallant people, the devastation of their homes, and their 
]xilitical enslavement pass in review before him, as, with 
dying breath and with affectionate benediction, he vindicates 
the South in the righteousness of her cause and j-jays trib- 
ute to her heroic dead. He points to the statue of a sol- 
dier in Confederate uniform that surmounts the monu- 
ment with lingers pressed on closed lips and haml jwinted 
to the future. He views its symbolical significance and 
exclaims: "The time will come when the South will be 
heard and be favorably judged by posterity." 

The Latin poet Horace, in a poem designed as the con- 
cluding piece to his book of Odes and the end of his literary 
labors, exclaims, as expressed in English, that he hail reared 



ALKXANDKR H. STI'.PIIKNS. 67 

:a memorial of liimsclf more cnchirinj^ than brass and lof- 
tier than the rci^al structure of the pyramids, one which 
neither the corroding rain, nor the furious north wind, nor 
the countless series of years and the flight of ages could 
destroy. It may be said of Mr. Stephens that he is entitled 
not. only to the renown of the orator, but also as a writer 
to the beautiful and enduring fame which literature be- 
stows. The most lasting monument to ])erpetuate his mem- 
ory will no doubt be his history, "I'he War of the States." 

This book, in view of its subject and purpose, and the 
political doctrine it expounds, bears in its pages the seeds 
of imperishability. It should continue to interest all lovers 
of republican institutions and the coming generations of 
the United States in all the cycles of time to come. It is 
lioth the embodiment and a tribute to ]:)atriotism. The 
distinguished author in his love of the South, with the de- 
votion that burns in the bosom of the son for the mother 
who gave him birth and nurtured him during the years of 
childliood, and from every aspersion would guard her name 
and memory, seeks in his history to leave a perjjetual me- 
morial in vindication of Southern honor and Southern prin- 
ciple. The book with the steady poise of truth and justice 
unfolds and v/eighs in the balance the causes of the most 
gigantic war recorded in the book of time. Not only this ; it 
expounds the nature of that compact which binds the States 
into one broad empire. It should be diligently read and 
studied by the youth of the land for proper and correct in- 
formation in regard to the principles of republican gov- 
ernment according to the teachings and traditions of their 
revolutionary sires. Alas ! how few of them have read the 
book or kindred works, or know anything in detail of the 
])olitioal principles involved in this war. 

To make the discussion of the doctrine of State sov- 
ereignty and his teachings upon the subject clearer and 
more eiuphatic, Mr. Stephens adoj)ted what is termed the 
Socratic method of reasoning. In familiar colloquy with 
imaginary persons, as Judge Bynum, from Massachusetts, 
a representative of the Radical branch of the Republican 
party ; Professor Norton, from Connecticut, representing 
the Conservative branch of the same party; Major lleister 



68 SOUTIIICRN Lrri'.UATURK. 

from 1 'ciiiisylvaiiia, rc'])rcs(.'nliiii;- tliosc of the parly known- 
as war Democrats; by questions and answers, the j;reat 
problems of L'nion and the sovereignly of the States in 
every feature and phase is discussed. The plan of the au- 
thor, circumstances, time, the characters that api)car, their 
sentiments and actions, and all that transpired in connec- 
tion with the great civil war, all conspire to invest the 
history with more than ordinary interest. Imagine the 
conversations given to have taken place in the portico of 
Liberty Hall, the home of Mr. Stephens, Cravvfordville, 
Ga., and you have in the book a vivid drama from life, 
which, though in a large measure it consists of collocpiy or 
argument instead of incident, yet in view of the importance 
of the theme, the sublime discomses of illustrious speakers, 
the magniiicent ex])loils of living actors and the vast is- 
sues it involved in the destiny of a great nation, comes 
over the s])iril as with enchantment. In its way it is a mas- 
terly treatise in suppoii of tlu- doctrine of State sovereignty 
and the true purposi-s of llie l'nit)n, and as such enters a 
plea of refutation to tlu- i-Jiarge against the South of hav- 
ing caused llu' wav so •^real, cruel and destructive, that its 
outllow of blood would incarnadine old ocean's depths and 
no atonement can wash its guilt away. 

Not only as an orator, an author and a statesman, but 
in the attributes of his personal character does Mr. Stephens 
deserve the recording tribute oi the i)en and the transmis- 
sion of his name to posterity. No nobler and stronger in- 
dices of character may be cited than the pure and e.xalted 
friendship which he cherished for Mr. Tot)mbs, his colleague 
and associate in a long period of congressional life. 
The beauty and devotion of it renewed the story of namoiii 
and Tythias. Diametrically oi)posite in physical charac- 
teristics atul moral temperament, yet they were so accor- 
d.uit in tlu'ir political acts and views, that they were popu- 
larly called the Siamese twins in jwlitics. The magnificent 
physiijue, genius, dash and daring of Mr. Toombs had fas- 
cination for the milder ami more considerate Stephens. 

.Another leading feature of the life and character of Mr. 
Sti'phens worthy of high ciunmemoration. was his benefi- 
cence to the aspiring- young men and women i\)r vvhonii 



Amxani»i<:r it. vS'n:i'iii<:NS. 09 

he secured tlir hnielils of an ((huatioii. It is slated upon 
f^ood aulliority lliat lie expended in lliis niunnerOver lliirty- 
iive tlK.usand dollars. Iliis liberality is a inonnnient to 
his memory UKjrc beautiful than the ])ure eohinni of his 
literary labors, or the shaft of marble which his bclovec^ 
State in her j^ratitude and devotion shall erect to him. jft 
will have a i)lace in living hearts and memories which, like 
the fabled statue of Memnon that sent forth strains of 
nmsic each morninj^-, shall repeat the notes of his praise to 
each succeeding generation. Its true and sure reward will 
be the "crown of purv gold" which the Master shall in the 
.kingdom place upon the lu'ad of tbosi' who upon i^arlh lol- 
lowt'd his example and "went about doing good." 

The proverbial ingratitude of re])ublics to those who 
liave rendert'd them illustrious service meets a refutation 
in the conduct of the people of (icorgia to Mr. Stephens. 
Instead of ignoring his claims and casting him aside in the 
declining years of his life and usefulness, they elevated him 
to the highest office of the State and continue<l him in it, 
when he was ])hysically incapacitated to perform its duties 
and meet its responsibilities. Me closed liis carlhly career 
as it were infolded in the arms and reclining upon the 
bosom of his beloved (icorgia. 

GUjrious old (leorgia! honored art thou in llie names 
.and renown of thy long list of illustri(>us sons! i>;adiant 
is thy history with them as thine own blue heavens with 
stars. Thv "old red hills" may be seamrd with manv a 
scar and rent with chasms deep by corroding rains and dis- 
solving frosts in the ilight of years, yet thy ghjry still re- 
mains like the lingering glow of the golden sunsets of thy 
.autumnal evenings upon thy hills and valleys. Sweet mem- 
ories oi thee still swell the hearts of thy sons wdio have 
sought homes in other .Slates and dwell bciicalli oibci skies. 
■Fair as in youth's bright morn rises befcjre the mind thy 
verdant plains, hr.'id slrt'ams and shadowy hills. With 
fleep pathos of s' nl do llie\- recall the mem(»r\' of the 
fathers and eNem])lars of llicir \oulh, those veniTable hkmi of 
the i)ast, who in ])erson and character were like the oaks 
that rr»se in massive grandeur from thy virgin soil. I'e- 
neaih thy clods repose the de.'ir forms of their fallnTs ancL 



yo Southern Literature. 

niotliers, and others of the dear family circle that met at: 
the festal hoard and j:^athercd at iiit^ht and mornings at the 
altar consecrated to prayer. From afar they greet thee and 
hold ont their arms to cmhrace thee as they recall in sweet 
reminiscence the dewy freshness of life's morning hour. 



BENJAMIN I1AR\ 1:Y HILL. 

Cireat is the gift of oratory, l-'ortunatc is the mortal upon' 
whose Iii>s "ihe mystic hee has dro])[)ed the honey of per- 
suasion." and from which in mellilluent stream flow the 
words and thoughts of speech. How enrapturing to the 
mind of such an one to he ahle to control, as at the wave 
of a magic wand, the opinions and passions of men either 
in the forensic arena, upon the political rostrum, or from 
the sacrcil pulpit. 

The poet is horn, the orator is made, says the oUl adage. 
Which one has the precedence and superiority in the realm 
of human thought and action, the speaker or the author, 
and which is the most desirahle intellectual endowment of the 
{\\o, has hixMi olten (.onsidered and debated. The winged 
wortls and huniing thoughts that come from the lips 
of the orator fall upon the ears and thrill the hearts of the 
living throngs oi men. They live only for a time in the 
memories of the autlitors. The eloquent tongue becomes 
nuUe in death, ami they are forgotten. The writer who 
gives to the world, either in prose or verse, the sublime 
thoughts am! eiu'apturing fancies of his mind, anil sends 
out a bot^k, has an audience in a thousand homes. lie sets 
atloat in his book a treasure ship of knowledge upon the 
broad stream of time that will descenii to ]iosteritv to de- 
liglit mankiml when his pen is cimsiuned with rust. 

The glowing clitue of the South is regarded as the land 
of tbic oratiM". Its ceruleati skies, its gorgeous sunsets, its 
tropical wealth of fruits and flowers, foster the glow of 
passion and awaken with fervid touch the imagination, 
more than the frigid attuosphere and ice-bound hills and 
valleys of the North. The Southern States have ]>roduceif 



Bknjamin FIarvi'.y llihl,. ' 71 

(liirinp: the iircsciit contiiry a munhcr of public men distin- 
i^aiished for llicir brilliant oratory. First and foremost of 
tlie el()(|uent sons of the South who acc|uired renown as 
an orator in his clay and generation may l)c mentioned the 
Hon. Benjamin li. Hill of Georgia. 

As a lawyer at the bar Mr. Jlill commenced his career 
as a public speaker. The training at the bar alToids a Ihie 
field for the culture of oratory, if it is based upon early in- 
struction and drill in the school of elocution, and supple- 
mented by rigid study and practice in after-life. The his- 
tory of Athenian Demosthenes and Roman C'icero fully 
demonstrates that toil and industry are indispensable to the 
successful orator. 

It is a matter worthy of remark lo observe how few of 
the legal profession give special study to the art of oratory. 
It seems as if they expect naturally to grow up into polished 
speakers, and they have no as])iratiou to become elo(|Uent 
advocates before the jury. Mruiy seek no biglu-r proficiency 
than to be merely talkers, and give tlu'ir altcnlion soK-ly to 
''the law and the testimony." 

The personal characteristics of Mr. Hill, though ])ecu- 
liar to himself, were pleasing. As in the case of Vergniaud, 
the orator of the French Revolution, the roslrnni was the 
pedestal of his beauty and fascination. The writer of this 
article had the privilege of hearing Mr. Hill speak on two 
occasions in his early life. One was in an extemporaneous 
address at the literary commencement of the Ivadrange Fe- 
male College, Ga., in 1855, being chosen lo fill the va- 
cancy in the ]:)rogram caused by the absence of ihc rcgidar 
orator. His situation at that time was slill furihcr cm- 
tarrassed by some speaker before him having incidentally 
selected his line of to])ics, and as he said, "taken the wind 
out of his sails," and he therefore had to steer a new and 
unexpected course in the realm of ihougbt. 

As an oralor (he forti,' of Mr. I lill was in his argiunenla- 
tive skill and power, llis nniid was keen and logical, and 
he could dexterously wield the foils, and thrust and parry 
in debate. This order of mind (|ualified him lo excel in the 
discussions of those points of law that would come before 
a court in civil suits where obscurity or intricacy of prin- 



72 South HKN Litkrature. 

liplcs prevailed. He was well fitted for stump oratory, 
where the fallacy or plausible truth of any political prin- 
ciple nuist be unveiled, or ready retort nnist be made to 
anta.i^onist. INIr. Hill accjuired reputation as a successful 
l)<)litical speaker. Though not exactly contemporary with 
lion. A. II. Stephens, yet at the commencement of his 
career as a politician, he met Mr. Stephens in debate. He 
was very popular with his party. There was one peculiarity 
connected with Mr. Hill's oratory. It was an abrupt and 
rapid elevation of his voice at certain times to the pitch 
of the Indian war-whoop, or as his admirers termed it. to 
a Comanche }ell. 

The most celebrated oratorical elTort of Mr. Hill on 
record was his reply to James G. l^laine. when the latter 
in the United States Senate made an attack upon the South. 
The speech of Mr. lilaine was considered by his party as 
a triumphant defense of the policy that had been ])ursued 
by the N'orth towards the South. On the Southern side 
there was trepidation, uneasiness and indi^nalinn in vie\v' 
of the fad that the readmissioti of the .Southern .*^tatcs into 
the I'nion was recent and iheir reprcsenlalivcs ill ("on- 
o-ress did not feel sure, confuKMit, or at liomc in the halls of 
Congress. Then, the speech iA Mr. lUaiiie was i^rand and 
elo(iuent. In reference ti> this speech. Hon. kobert In- 
.i;ersoll in putting' Mr. lUaine as a presidential candidate 
before the Republican convention at C"hica5.i'o, said oi him, 
"Like an armed warrior, like a plumed kniqht, James G. 
Ulaine marched into the halls of the American Couf^^ress, 
and luuMed his shining" lances full and fair in the brazen 
face of the defanurs o\ his country and the maligiiers of 
lier honor." 

When this notal)le siieech was made the Sinuhcrn re]i- 
reseiUalives felt that there should be a reply to it. It 
seemed that all eyes were instinctively turned to Mi", llill, 
then seiialoi' from ( "icor^ia, as the proper man. lie ai^reed 
t(i lake up the gauntlet oi detiance thrtwvn down by "the 
IMniiu'd Kni'.dit." and made preparation to break a lance 
with him. W hat a darini^- attcmpf. What a tryinj^' onleal 
was there before Mr. Hill! Hemosthenes well could face 
the tickle and tmnultuous popnlacc i'>i ancient .\thens, when 



Bknjamin Harvky Hiix. 73 

he (IcHvcretl his I'hiHppics aj^^ainst the tyrant of Macedon. 
lie had every true lover of (Greece to l)ack him in his 
patriotic zeal and purpose. Cicero, with the peril of assas- 
sination confronting- iiini, could holdly assail Catiline and 
his associate conspirators. There was virtue enough left in 
the Roman Senate to particii)ate with him in his sympalh}' 
and effort to save Rome. 

But with Mr. liill the situation was far different. He 
was the representative of a nohle people, hut they had heen 
and were still denounced as rehels, as traitors to their coun- 
try ; for nearly a decade they had undergone humiliation, 
rai)ine and political proscription at the hands of the North- 
ern States, who held the reins of government, and hefore 
those representatives in the halls of national legislation he 
must make a defen.se of the South. All that he might say 
in defense of the South, though founded on truth and jus- 
tice, would be misconstrued and find no hearing hefore such 
a partial and ])reju(liced tribunal as the United States 
Senate. He had, however, the nerve, the courage, and the 
patriotism to attempt the vindication of the honor and fair 
fame of his own beloved South in heroic defiance of the 
sectional prejudice and animosity arrayed before him. lie 
had the intellect; the data from the j)ublic records were 
in his favor, and the "I'lumed Knight" went down before 
him in this jiolitical tilt, and the good name of the South 
was nobly vindicated. The high compliment of ingersoll 
to Mr. r.laine as recited, in every fact and feature was the 
measure of the just tribute to Mr. Hill. 

The wisdom to determine the jiolicv that will tend to the 
weal of the nation, to disi-eni with acem-ate ken the meas- 
ures suitable to meet the exigencies which s])ring up in the 
existing affairs of government, and to forecast the o])era- 
tions of any legislative enactment are recognized as con-' 
stituting the elements of a true and wise statesmanshij). 
Mr. Mill evinced in his public career that he was thus en- 
dowed. As to the ability he may have shown in his four 
years' service as senator from ( Jeorgia in the ConfedtMate 
States Congress, nothing can be definitely known or said. 
The members of the first Confederate Congress were in a 
large measure old and experienced legislators. The limited 



74 Southern Literature. 

experience of Air. Ilill in national legislation would pre- 
clude his thrustinfj himself forward. Then, whilst the lej^is- 
lation involved solemn and weighty matters as relating to 
the war, all proceedings were necessarily secret, and 
were thus locked up in the archives of the government. 
From what little is known of the Confederate Congress, it 
may be inferred that Mr. Hill by his talent wielded a large 
influence in that body. 

It was in the United States Senate after the restoration 
of the Union, that a broad field was opened to him as sen- 
ator from Georgia. In his capacity as senator he fully met 
the exigencies of his environment as being" from a Southern 
State, and a noble and gallant defense did the proscribed 
South receive at his hands. His reply to Blaine, previously 
noticed, was a notable disj)lay of his intellectual powers and 
crowned him with honor in the annals of Congress. 

The attitude of Mr. Hill in regard to the "Reconstruction 
Measures" of the fetleral government illustrates his politi- 
cal sagacity: How cruel, unjust and humiliating they were; 
how contrary to the terms stipulated in the surrenders of 
Lee and Johnston and to the expressed sentiments of the 
North as to the objects for which the war was waged, all 
those acquainted with the history of reconstruction well 
know. In his notes or philippics on the "situation," as 
they may be teriued, Mr. Hill gave a very correct statement, 
in a few words, when, in speaking of the position of the 
people of the South in reference to thcMU. he said in sub- 
stance: "The complying accept, the resolute reject, none 
approve, while all despise!" He, however, advised the 
Southern States to accept the terms as inevitable. This 
policv was unacceptable to the main body of the people. 
Thcv were overpoweretl. brought under the yoke of subju- 
gation, but not conquered. The spirit of freedom still 
burned in their breasts. They could not forget their former 
glory as sovereign States, and their political equality as 
an inalienable heritage and secured to them in the sacra- 
ment of the blood of their revolutionary sires upon the field 
of battle. 

Those who coincided with Mr. Hill in his views and fa- 



Bknjamin Harvky IIiiJv. 75 

vorcd his policy were desiji^nated as the Boiirhon ])arty. The 
reader is referred to history for a full explication of the 
term "Bourhon." It has a remote allusion tc^ the tyranni- 
cal rule of the IJourhon dynasty of French kiuf^s and their 
oppression of the people. The proud-spirited Southerners 
spurned the shackles forged for them ,and their children, 
and in their indi<:;-nation as free-born men unwisely threw 
down the reins of State government. Provisional govern- 
ments were estal)lished for the States under military super- 
vision, and aliens and carpet])aggers crept in, took posses- 
sion and plundered the people. All Southerners remember 
well those years of sorrow and degradation. 

Had Mr. Hill's suggestions been adopted, the South, per- 
hajjs to some extent, would have escaped her long duress 
and spoliation at the hands of the Northern adventurers 
upheld by the Federal government. 

The parents of Mr. J dill are said to have been in mod- 
erate circumstances. His father was a plain farmer and his 
mother of a domestic turn of mind, and as the heads of the 
household were such as in ante-bellum days made the fam- 
ily the pride and glory of the land. As a boy, Mr. Hill is 
represented as being fond of his books. This may be re- 
ceived as a prognostic of his future greatness. Books! 
books! are the golden rungs in the old ladder of fame. 
Franklin, Lincoln and others of America's great men found 
it so. The lamp of knowledge, like the lamp of Aladdin in 
oriental story, brings to those who are masters of it, the 
services of mighty genii, who enable them to perform sub- 
lime marvels, as in the case of Morse in the telegraph, I'ell 
in the telephone, Edison in the phonograph, and Roentgen 
in the X-rays. 

The ambitious hopes of the parents clustered aromid the 
son. It is said that his mother spun and wove the suit of 
clothes which Mr. Hill wore when he entered college. His 
devotion to her forms a beautiful episode in his life. When 
he had grown to manhood, and naught remained to him of 
the devoted mother but her portrait, on retiring at night 
he would go to the room where it hung, and looking at it, 
would silently invoke the blessing of his unseen mother, 
and bid luT "good night." And in the morning before en- 



76 Southern IvItkraturb 

tering upon the duties of the day he would render to his 
mother as represented in the picture the same tribute of 
fihal reverence and love. This filial virtue of Mr. Hill 
adorns and lieautifies his life and character as the soft acan- 
thus wreath the stately column of marble, and is as ex- 
pressive of his greatness and as honoring to his memory 
as the statue worked by the chisel of the sculptor and 
erected by Georgia, his native State, to be a perpetual memo- 
rial of her gifted son. 



WALTER T. COLQUITT. 

It is the remark of IMacaiday. the English historian, that 
the history of the world presents the iiUeresting fact that 
the great minds that have enlightened and blesseil man- 
kind by their wisdom and their deeds have not come singly, 
but in crowds, upon the stage of human action. They seem 
to have come upon the scene just at the time when their 
services were most needed by their country and their fellow- 
men. This is forcd)ly exem]ilified in the history of tho 
LInited States, severally and resi)ectively, during the first 
half century after the revolutionary war. The jiolitical fir- 
mament of that ])eriod was radiant with intellectual lights 
as a Jamiary sky with stars. In none of the thirteen orig- 
inal States was it more strkingly exhibited than in the case 
of Georgia. Among those who appear upon the roll of its 
distinguislKHl men to claim attention in view of their in- 
tellectual ability anti moral worth may be mentioned the 
subject of tliis article, Walter T. Colquitt. 

The |)restige and honor which the name of Colquitt has 
in Georgia and in the South is mainly due to him. He was 
a man remarkable both for his physical and intellectual 
power and activity. He had not the majesty of lofty 
stature or high forehead which are usually considered as 
symbolic of greatness, but he had the l)road brow, the wcll- 
sliaped head that showed fine poise of character and mental 
jiower ; and the calm grey eyes, in whose depths burned 
the lieht of crenius. 



Walter T. Colquitt. ']'] 

As an orator he was not excelled by any of his compeers 
and associates at the bar in pleadino- before a jury. I'le 
was stron.c: in criminal cases, and could at will open in the 
hearts of the jury the fountain of sympathy in ])ehalf of his 
client. So noted was he for this power and intluence over 
a jury that upon one occasion the opposing counsel warned 
the jury to beware of Mr. Colquitt; that he would try to 
make them believe that their hearts were in their feet, 
hands or some other part of their body. Mr. Colquitt in 
reidv said to the jury, that he did not want them to believe 
their hearts were anywhere else than in the right place, 
and that they were beating with warm and broad sym])a- 
thies for tlie unfortunate as God had designed, and that 
guided by them their verdict would be in favor of his 
client. 

The writer heard Mr. C()l(|uitt in the celebrated High- 
tower will case tried at the h'ebruary term of the .superior 
court, at 'I'homaston, Georgia, in 1847. He was counsel 
tor the ])laintif['s. The purpose was to break the will, as it 
was charged that, the devisor not being of "disposing mind 
and numory," undue bias and influence hacl been used 
by the party who wrote the will to cause him to make 
unjust discrimination in the distribution of the property. 
The will was written by the family physician. In touching 
u])on the action and evidence of this witness, Mr. Cokjuitt 
wound up by saying, there is "the finger of Joab" in this, 
b'inally, in seeking to cover him with ridicule and in an- 
swer to the question who did the work, Mr. Colquitt sung 
out "John Anderson, my Jo John," and by this action filled 
the court-room with laughter. 

Mr. Colquitt was master of all the arts of ofYense and 
defense in oratory. He could wield the trenchant argu- 
ment, handle the sharp-])ointed satire, or relate with rare 
humor the amusing anecdote. Whoever met him in the tilt 
of debate, either in the court-room or on the "political 
stump," might look well to his arms and his laurels. Few 
could successfully resist the impetuous shock with which 
he bore down upon his antagonist. He was fearless, but 
magnanimous in debate. 

He could touch the sensibilities and stir the hearts of men 



-jS Southern Literature. 

lo tears. Many were the grand achievements he won in the 
court-room before a jury in criminal cases. One of the most 
touching instances handed down of his power and pathos 
was in the case of a cHent who had neither money nor 
friends to aid him. Mr. Colquitt arose to speak and the 
following sublime exordium fell from his lips. "Gentlemen 
of the jury, my client stands before you friendless as the 
son of God." There was no play with words, no stale 
preliminaries. At one stroke he associated the pitiable case 
of his client with the most solemn and sacred event in the 
world's history. This appeal touched at once the hearts of 
the twelve men, and the picture presented, with the strain 
of sentiment that followed, made it the triumph of the 
Jiour. 

With his contemporaries, those who knew him, Mr. Col- 
<iuitt's name was the synonym of genius in oratory and the 
criterion of noble simplicity of character. His name was 
familiar to the people as a household word. He was hon- 
ored of Georgia, though it may not have erected the monu- 
ment of marble to perpetuate his memory. His name and 
honor have been nobly represented in the life and career 
•of his son, Alfred H. Colquitt, who held the high posi- 
tions of Governor of Georgia and of representative in 
the United States Senate. The glory of the father is un- 
dimmed bv the luster of the son. There has been but one 
Walter T.' Colquitt. 



WILLIAM L. YANCEY. 

Although the work may be lightly esteemed by those in 
•whose minds naught but pleasure or business can find a 
place, yet the recall to public attention of the names and 
memory of the eminent men of the South in these biograph- 
ical touches is to the writer a task of love and patriotic 
duty. Especially is this the case with him in regard to the 
Confederate period of Southern history. Like Old Mortal- 
ity, a character in one of Scott's novels of the same name. 
t\vho is described as frequenting country churchyards and 



William L. Yancey. 79 

the graves of the Covenanters in the south of Scotland, and 
whose occupation consisted in clearing the moss from the 
gray tomhstones, renewing with his chisel the half-defaced 
inscriptions and repairing the emhlems with which they 
were adorned, thus would the writer remove the incrusta- 
tions of time and the pall of forgetfulness which may cover 
lip or enshroud the memories of those who occupy a niche 
in the historic Pantheon of the South. Not one of her 
heroic sons, be his deeds or virtues great or less, should 
the South suffer to fall into oblivion. 

The cognizance of personal knowledge of Hon. William 
L. Yancey, the subject of this article, -began with the early 
life of the writer. He bears well in mind the incident of 
'having traveled with Mr. Yancey liy stage from Belleview, 
Talbot county, to Thomaston, Upson county, Georgia, in the 
summer of 1850. On entering the coach he found several 
passengers on board. His attention was specially attracted 
to one of them who was above medium height, of cor- 
pulent body, florid complexion, antl having a Roman nose, 
blue eyes and sandy hair. He wore a linen coat and slip- 
pers, and his dress in full was the easy outfit of summer 
wear. He had that poise of quiet dignity and reticence 
of speech which wealth, high social rank, conscious intel- 
lectual power, or the weighty affairs of government give 
to men. As afterwards ascertained, this individual was the 
Hon. William L. Yancey of Alabama. He was at that 
time on his way to Macon, Ga., to address the Democratic 
Convention which was to hold the next day at that city. 

This was, or those days were, a halcyon period in the 
history of the country. The thunders of the Mexican war 
had long subsided. The territory acquired by conquest and 
treaty had broadened the zone of the republic, until it rested 
in the full clasp of the Pacific on the west as well as the 
broad embrace of the Atlantic on the east. The gold-fields 
of California had been pouring for one or two years their 
tide of wealth into the lap of the country. The dream of 
glory and unexampled prosperity enwrapped the nation. 
The sea of American politics was tranquil. Northern abo- 
litionism, "horridus cum ore cruento" as a roaring lion 
•greedy for his prey, was not ready to pounce upon the 



8o Southern Literature. 

South. The Pandora box of pohtical strife in the newly- 
acquired territory had its Hd opened and the evils were 
fk'di^ini;- their win<;s, hut golden tranciuiUity still hovered 
over the land. Patriotism was paramount to political am- 
bition in the bosom of those statesmen who were control- 
ling the aflfairs of government. Neither Mr. Yancey nor 
any other politician at that time could foresee or forecaSt 
the events that would transpire in another decade. Nor 
did he then, nor at the Charleston National Convention in 
i860 when that party split. 

In person, life and character Mr. Yancey is environed 
with the romance of the mediaeval knight. If Toombs, of 
Georgia, was distinguished as the Achilles of American 
politics, Mr. Yancey may well be characterized the cheva- 
lier Bayard in the field of political strife. As said of that 
knight of mediaeval fame, that he "was without fear and 
reproach," the "realized ideal" of chivalry, the combination 
of perfect courage with entire unselfishness, the utmost gen- 
erosity, and a purity of life wonderful in that age," so ma> 
it be said of Mr. Yancey in his life and political career. 

Mr. Stephens says of him that "he was a man of bril- 
liant genius, with many eminent qualities of natural as well 
as acquired ability. He was amongst the ablest men of the 
South who zealously espoused the cause of secession at 
an early day, and no one felt a deeper interest in its suc- 
cess." He was the recognized leader of his State. After 
the organization of the Confederacy he was sent by the 
government with A. Dudly Mann of Virginia, and A. P. 
Rost of Louisiana, to Europe to present to France and Eng- 
land the Confederate cause with the view of opening ne- 
gotiations with those powers. 

As stated by Mr. Stephens in his "War of the States." 
Mr. Yancey, "having seen that he could not accomplish 
the business for which he and his associates were commis- 
sioned and sent to Europe, returned home, and was elected 
by the legislature of Alabama to the first Confederate 
States Senate under the Constitution which had been adop- 
ted for their permanent government, and which was to go 
into operation the 22d of February. 1862." He was emi- 
neiittv (lualified by his talent antl experience for a ])lace in 



WlIJJAM L. Yanckv. 8 1 

the Legislative Council of the young republic. The voca- 
tion of the statesman suited him better than that of the 
soldier. His impulsive nature and patriotic ardor did not 
•override his judgment and push him out into the field of 
niililary service as in the case of some others. Genius for 
military affairs is not always the accompaniment of bril- 
liant powers of mind, nor the product of culture and sci- 
entific training. The great chieftains and the successful 
warriors were devclo])ed from the bosom of war like Mi- 
nerva, its fabled goddess, is said to have sprung from the 
head of Jupiter. No art of training can make them. The 
world's great generals, as they stand forth upon the pages 
of history, have been reduced by some writer to five in 
lunnber — Alexander, Cresar, Hannibal, Scipio and llona- 
parte. 

The first and second terms of the Confederate Congress 
*?how a consteHation of old and experienced statesmen. Mr, 
Yancey acquired no special distinction in his new sphere 
as a Confederate senator. His career was brief. He died 
in 1863. It was whispered in subtle rumor at or before 
the time of his death that he had received a serious hurt 
in his spine in a personal rencounter with Hon. B. F. Hill on 
the floor of the Senate chamber. It is to be hoped that no 
such thing really happened. It would be, even at this time, 
a sad reflection that two men, renowned as they were for in- 
tellectual ability, should have, under any impulse, yielded 
to their passions and sullied their manhood and high 
official dignity by resorting to brute force for the settlement 
of any question of debate. Such a scene occurred years 
before in the Senate chamber of the Uniterl States, when 
the fiery Brooks, of South Carolina, assailed with his cane 
the imperturbable Sunnier of Massachusetts. From the 
hoary past custom has savagely made blows the redoubtable 
weapons or arguments of champions upon the field of in- 
tellectual as well as physical combat. The present age is 
becoming pugilistic in its taste and tendency. 

The charge against Mr. Yancey of having, in conjunction 
with Tooml)s of Georgia, Rhett of South Carolina, Floyd 
■of Virginia, Davis of Mississippi, Wigfall of Texas, and 

6sl 



82 Southern Literature. 

other leading men of the South, conspired to overthrow the 
government and organized in secret junto for that purpose 
at Washington, the 2Qth of December, i860, is fully re- 
futed l)v Mr. Stej)hens in his "War of the States." He 
states that "they aimed at notliing and desiretl nothing but 
the maintenance, in good faith, of the Constitution, with 
all its guarantees as they stood." He further says, "the 
only real conspiracy against the Constitution organized in 
Washington, as he understood it, was that of the seven 
Governors from the seven Northern States, who assembled 
there, and by their mischievous machinations caused Mr. 
Lincoln to change his purpose as to the evacuation of Fort 
Sumter." 

Let no tarnish rest upon the name and reputation of 
William L. Yancey, but proud and erect in the majesty of 
his intellect and patriotic virtue, should he stand in the 
annals of American history, and, if need be; to render to 
him the honor due, let the South enwreathe his memory with 
the shamrock, the chosen emblem of liberty-loving "Ould 
Ireland," as it comes down through the generations of the 
past, wet with the hopeless tears of her people and stained 
with the blood of her sons. 



HENRY W. HILLL^RD. 

It is said by Plutarch that when Cicero, the Roman orator, 
was serving as questor of Sicily, that he undertook the de- 
fense of a munber of young Romans of noble families, who 
lay under the charge of having violated the rules of dis- 
cipline and had not behaved with sufficient courage in time 
of service. The orator acquitted himself with great ability 
and success. As he returned to Rome, meeting with a per- 
son of some eminence with whom he was acquainted, he 
asked him. what they said and thought of his actions at 
Rome, imagining the glory of his achievements had filled the 
whole »city. His acquaintance answered. "Where have you 
been. then. Cicero, all this time?" He found that the ac- 
counts of his conduct had been lost at Rome, as in an im- 



Henry W. Milliard. 83 

mcnse sea, and had made no remarkable addition to his 
reputation. 

His ardent thirst for glory was rebuked at the thought 
that his living personality in what he conceived would 
bring him renown had not extended the short distance that 
he was from Rome. Though this was the case with the 
Roman orator in this incident, yet his name and memory 
still live in the immortality of his orations. The mig'hty 
republic of Rome lives only in history. Its grandeur and 
glory have passed away as a dream. No longer in serried 
array and gleaming in purple and gold the Roman co- 
horts are seen marcliing in triumphal procession along the 
Appian or Flaniinian ways to the seven-hilled city. The 
senators, the conscript fathers, in their togas with purple 
borders, no longer occupy their curule chairs in the Capi- 
tol. The rival armies of Caesar and Pompey no longer fill 
the Roman world with dread and consternation and the 
shock of battle. Cicero lives not in a single action nor in 
a single speech, but in his orations and his life devoted to 
virtue and liberty. Twenty centuries have transpired since 
he fell beneath the assassin's dagger, yet his orations still 
live in their spirit of unfading beauty and eloquence, and 
form the classic text-book of the schoolboy and of the 
scholar of civilized and enlightened nations of to-day. 

How beautiful and inspiring is the immortality that the 
products of the mind and the art of letters give to man ! 
The place and hold he has in the memory of the living may 
be sweet and precious, but it is brief and transient. The 
features of the countenance taken on the iodized plate of 
the artist will lie in the receptacle of private mementoes, 
half- forgotten. The waxen cylinder of the phonograph may 
receive and retain for years the tones of the human voice, 
but shut up in silence, unless some living hand shall set it in 
motion. The printed or written page with its treasured 
thought descends to successive generations of men. This 
is beautifully illustrated in the life career of the subject of 
this essay, Henry W. Hilliard, as well as that of the old 
Roman orator, Cicero. As photographed from the remi- 
niscences of the past upon the tablet of memory, this distin- 
guished son of the South was of fine personal physique, ex- 



84 SOUTIIKRX LiTKKATrRK. 

press and admirable in form and stature, eyes and hair 
black, swarthy in complexion and dipiified and courtly in 
bearing-. Thus he appeared to the author as seen by him at 
LaCiransj^e, ("ieors;"ia. in Juh', 1855. He was at that time in 
the full meridian of life and at the close of his jnililic ca- 
reer that had been crowned with civic honors, lie had ac- 
quired distinction in the law as his chosen profession, and 
had been elected to a seat in the House of Representatives 
of the Conc^ress of the United States from Alabama. He had 
been sent as foreij^n minister to the court of Austria, and 
had returned from that mission the year past. He 'had a 
just and equal fame among^ his contemporaries, antl had re- 
ceived many honors from his fellow-citizens. His course 
in professional and public life had been the steady and 
serene travel of a star and not the flashiiii^ brilliancy of a 
meteor. 

The extracts taken from his s]^eeches dcliveretl uptm the 
floor of Congress and various addresses which appear in the 
school-books of oratory of the land arc models of classic 
beauty and eloquence. As an orator he was not vehement 
nor orotund in his elocution. He was easy and graceful in 
his actions as a speaker, and the words fell from his lips 
soft and gentle like the descending snowflakes that silently 
wrap the earth in a mantle of beauty. He delivered the 
adilress at the commencement exercises of the LaCrange 
Female College in July, 1854. The institution was then at 
the acme of its prosperity. It numbered, perhaps, two- 
hundretl jnipils upon its register. The sjiectacle the col- 
lege presented that day was grand and beautiful. There was 
gathered in its elegant and spacious hall an audience of 
two thousand people, who came from all parts of the State 
to attend the exercises. There were present in that large 
assembly the womanhood of the land in all the worshiped 
graces of female loveliness, educated manhood with its 
courtly bearing and culture, age with its reverend locks ami 
gatherctl wisdom, and learned brows crowned with the hon- 
ors of science. 

The orator (the subject of this essay) said in 
his address that he had travekHl over Europe, had visited 
the royal courts of its kingtloms and empires, but did not 



Hknry W. Hiluard. 85 

see any courtly array of the female sex that surpassed the 
women of the South. This picture of Southern life and 
manners has been graphically described, because of the 
dark, malign and ])roscribe(l institution of African slavery 
that lay in the background, and on account of which sec- 
tional spleen has sought to defame the civilization of the 
South. 

It is as an author he forms a subject of special interest 
for the notice and review of the ])en. Late in life he came 
before the public in a book of fiction titled "De Vane," 
eras paraphrased, "A Story of Plebeians and Patricians." 
It is a sweet and pleasant story to read. Considered in 
its general character, it has a natural and genial plot, agree- 
ably sustained to its close, grace and beauty of diction with 
sparkling classical allusions, lofty tone of moral sentiment, 
sublime reflections on many things that form the profound 
subject of human thought and inquiry, and a hai)py duioue- 
ment. 'Jlie entire narrative meanders through the beauties 
of rhetoric, treasures of thought and descriptions of natural 
scenery like the clear brook thai glides llu'cmgh the llowery 
vale. 

Specially considered, the story derives interest from its 
being a representation of Southern life and manners at 
the period when the South was emerging from its pioneer 
state, and had expanded into the first stages of education 
and refinement, and prior to the "forties" of the past cen- 
tury. It presents the high standard of social, moral and 
intellectual culture that prevailed in the society of Colum- 
bia, South Carolina, the seat of the State University. It 
presents in vivid picture the literary exercises of that in- 
stitution of learning on commencement day at that period. 

The book as a work of fiction deserves special interest 
from the fact that the actors in the drama of life pre- 
sented are not fictitious, but real, and as noble as ever moved 
upon the stage of human life. There, under the veil of 
fiction woven appears South Carolina's great statesman, as 
charming in social life as he was grand and gifted in the 
legislative hall of the nation. And the female characters 
that appear are the true models of American womanhood, 
mothers and daughters that in their sovereignty as un- 



86 Southern Literature. 

crowned queens needed not the title of the decayed nobility 
of Europe to add to their charms of beauty and virtue. 

The book should possess deep interest for the Alethodist 
reader,' as it presents in the fullness and apostolic grace of 
his character as a minister of the gospel Rishop \\'illiam 
McKendree, one of the leaders and founders of the INI. E. 
Church. Also in his young manhood. William Capers, who 
in after years came to the Episcopal office. It portrays him 
in the delivery of the celebrated discourse of traditional 
fame, as with sweetness of speech he wraps the souls of his 
audience in the elysian spell of spiritual ecstasy. It like- 
wise presents in clear and gra])hic description the form 
of divine worship as observed by the church at that 
period, in all its simplicity, solemnity and spiritual unc- 
tion. The ministers of the gospel of the present day may 
read this book of fiction with profit. 

"De Vane" when first issued from the press created no 
sensation in reading circles in the South, and has attracted 
but little attention since. Though it has received but scant 
recognition, yet judged according to the rules of pure taste, 
it possesses a high degree of literary excellence. In Its 
classic grace and beauty peerless as a Corinthian shaft of 
marble molded bv the skill of the artist, it should have and 
hold a high place in Southern literature, and stand as an 
enduring memorial of posthumous fame to the author, as to 
the Latin poet Horace his lyric poems, which he presaged 
would be to him iiioiiiiiiiciifiim (Crc pcrcnnius. 



AUGUSTUS B. LONGSTREET. 

As related by the Greek poet, Homer, in the Iliad, that 
during the siege of Troy, when Nestor, the clear-toned 
sjicaker of the Pylians, from whose tongue also flowed 
speech sweeter than honey, and who had been reared and 
nurtured through two generations of articulate-speaking 
men and was living in the third, arose in the council of the 
Greeks to quiet the strife which had sprung up between those 
intrepid warriors, Agamenmon and Achilles, in order to en- 



Augustus B. Lonqstreet. 87 

force his advice reverts to his past experience. He tells 
them of Pirithous, Dryas, Exardius and Polyphemus, he- 
roes of the past, whom he had known and with whom he 
had associated in arms. In speaking of them he as- 
serted that they were the bravest of earth-nourished men, 
and no mortals then living might contend with them. He 
had never seen such men since, nor was he likely to see 
such again. 

It is the disposition of the old to look in review upon the 
period in which they were reared when it is passed as the 
golden age of time, whilst the smart and vivacious present, 
especially the young, are apt to regard it as an era of fogy- 
ism. They are not in the least disposed to accept the prop- 
osition that men and things of seventy-five or fifty years 
ago can compare in any respect with those of the present. 
It must readily be conceded that the present age has been ren- 
dered marvelous by its scientific discoveries and its achieve- 
ments in art. It can boast of the telephone which con- 
quers space and gives ubiquity to man. It exults in the 
pihonograph that with its waxen cylinders receives the im- 
pression of the tones of the human voice, and after a lapse 
■of forty years can reproduce them with living exactness. 
This may be the case, yet the past may and does compare 
favorably with the present in literature and oratory and in 
the heroic mold of its men and the virtue and beauty 
of its women. Especially is this true of those men who laid 
the foundations of this republic and of those who came 
upon the stage of action as their immediate successors. 

On the roll of its illustrious sons of that period Georgia 
does not boast a Durer name or a nobler character than the 
Rev. A. B. Longstreet, D.D., LL.D., the distinguished sub- 
ject of this essay. It was the privilege of the writer of 
this article, in January, 1848, to have matriculated as a 
student of Emory College, Oxford, Ga., when Judge Long- 
street, as he was then addressed, was president of that in- 
stitution of learning, and to have the opportunity of obtain- 
ing personal knowledge of him during a period of six months. 
At that time he was perhaps sixty years of age ; tall and 
venerable in person, his countenance was plain and expres- 
sive of benignity, and peculiarly modified by his wearing 



88 Southern Literature. 

liis hair dase-cut and combed down the forehead according; 
to the style of his boyhood days. With these pecuHarities 
of form and feature, and as president of a college and also 
author of "Georgia Scenes," he strongly impressed the- 
youthful imagination. 

The points of interest and traits of character that may 
have clustered around and marked his boyhood and youth 
are not known to the writer. Neither is the intellectual 
precocity he may have displayed at school nor the literary 
proficiency and the honors that may have crowned his course 
at college. He was an alumnus of the State University in- 
the early period of its history. In the capacity of instruc- 
tor he had charge of the departments of moral philosophy 
and political economy during the time he was president of 
Emory College. 

To portray in full and graphic detail the personal physique,, 
the moral stamina, the versatile intellect and the long, 
varied and useful professional life and experience of this 
eminent man, so as to present a true picture of him with 
living exactness, would require a skill and touch of mind 
and pen like to that of the subtle and nimble sunbeam that 
photographs the human form and countenance. Yet this 
is requisite in order fully to appreciate him and comprehend 
that note and place of honor and esteem in which he was. 
held by the people of Georgia and the South. 

His claims to historic mention and distinction are three- 
fold ; as a jurist and author and a minister of the Gospel. 
His first and chosen pursuit in life was the study and prac- 
tice of law. The intellectual training and literary culture 
of his collegiate course at the State University of Georgia^ 
although that institution of learning was in its infancy, pre- 
pared him to enter upon the study of the law with broad,, 
genial and enlightened grasp of mind and thought. This 
lifted him at once above the paltry chances of being a jus- 
tice-court or case lawyer, and was a pledge of high at- 
tainments in legal knowledge and of honorable position at 
the bar. However, though this might be the propitious 
augury under which he engaged in the study and practice 
of law, there is no doubt, that in the outset of his legal ca- 
reer he went the rounds of the justice courts, as Georgia was. 



Augustus B. Longstreet. 89 

then a pioneer State and its social and political institutions 
were in their incipiency. It affords a true and pleasing 
picture to the mind to present him as a tall and slender 
youth going the rounds of these courts on horseback and 
carrying with him in his saddle-bags his law books, and tO' 
imagine him with a subtle play of humor in his eye and 
not over handsome face, as a youthful pleader before the 
justices, the revered magnates of the law. To do this 
would be no draught upon the fancy or imagination. What 
meant that rich vein of pleasantry with him in social life, 
and where else did he get that living picture of the men 
and manners of that day that appear in "Georgia Scenes," 
that production of his sportive genius? 

Although at that period Georgia was a pioneer State, 
as has been said, yet at that time its bench and bar could 
boast of brilliant talent and fine legal ability. This fact 
serves to demonstrate his success in the law, in that he 
arose to eminence amidst such contemporaries, and reached, 
that seat of honor — the judge's bench. The writer heard 
Judge John J. Floyd, a member of the bar of the Flint 
circuit, superior court, Georgia, say that Judge Longstreet 
W2LS an eloquent advocate before a jury. It was the privilege 
of the writer when a student at Emory College to hear Dr. 
Longstreet, as he was then called, in his pulpit minis- 
trations. At that time, his style and manner of oratory was . 
not brilliant or even declamatory, but was on the conver- 
sational order. 

In a baccalaureate address delivered at the commence- 
ment exercises of the college in 1848 there flashed forth 
rays of that fervid eloquence that crowned him with honor 
in the palmy days of his youth and manhood. The occa- 
sion was to him one of more than ordinary interest. It was 
the closing scene and act of his official connection with 
that institution of learning. His resignation as President 
had been tendered in view of his election to the Chancellor- 
ship of the State University of Mississippi. This would 
sever the sweet ties of kindred and of friends, disrupt the 
lifelong associations of the past, and expatriate him from 
his beloved State whose soil held in its embrace the aslies 
of the loved ones of his household and ancestry. Then, dur- 



90 Southern IvITErature. 

iii<;- the session had occurred the death of his only son, a 
bris^ht boy of nine or ten years of age. All these circum- 
stances consi)ired to unseal in his bosom the deep fountain 
of feeling which found expression in sentiment and reHec- 
tions which moved to tears, as his voice rose in the thrilling 
pathos and sweet accents of speech ascribed by Homer to 
Nestor, the silver-tongued speaker of the Pylians. 

The taste and habits of this distinguished son of the 
South seem to have been of a strong literary cast. It is 
usually the case with the large majority of educated men, 
that when they graduate and leave the classic halls of learn- 
ing to enter upon the sphere and duties of active life, they 
cast aside school-books with their lore. The polished lines of 
Cicero, the burning invectives of Demosthenes, the lyric 
melody of Horace and the golden dreams of Plato are for- 
gotten amidst the whirl ami engagements of busy life. 
Their academic and collegiate course forms only a pleasing 
reminiscence, and if they retain any benefit from it, it is in 
the intellectual training and disci])line which they inciden- 
tally received. 

Though Judge Longs! reel may not have kept up the 
regular and daily study of his text-books as when at 
school, yet he seems to have cherished a fondness for the 
studies of his youth and to have given them such attention 
in review and retrospect as to keep them fresh in memory. 
He w'as a close student in his profession and in the general 
field of letters. So intensely absorbed in thought would he 
become, that the amusing anecdote is related of him that 
when coming into the house out of a shower of rain, he is 
said to have laid his umbrella upon the bed, and he himself 
went behind the door. On his walk to and from his house 
to the college building over a half mile distant, to attend the 
daily recitations of his department, when he met a crowd of 
students, he would rarely lift his eyes from their abstract 
pose to receive the salutation due him as the presiding 
officer of the faculty of the institution. 

Amidst the study of the abstruse principles, dry forms 
and technicalities of the law, he found time to indulge his 
literary taste and talent in the creative realms of thought. 
The first production that came from his pen was 



Augustus B. Lonostrkkt. 91 

"Georgia Scenes." This book comprises (lescrii)tions of 
anuisiiig scenes and incidents in backwoods life, and of the 
social manners and customs that prevailed in the early and 
pioneer period of Georgia. Ihe charm and merit of the 
sketches lie not so much in the (lisp'lay of the subtle power 
of the imagination to create, as in delineations of ])crsons 
and characters taken from real life and drawn with graphic 
skill and touch, and in the quaint forms that appear of the 
collo(|uial speech or dialect prevalent among the uneducated 
classes f)f that period. They portray a phase of civiliza- 
tion prior to the reign of Webster's blue-back speller with 
its precious gems of learning and of Lindley Mm-ray's 
grammar with its graces of culture in the log school-houses 
of tke land. The mental contrast that naturally rises in 
the mind of the educated reader gives force and ])i(piancy 
and literary zest to the "Scenes." 

One of llic iiiitable slselclics of the bo(^k is "Ned r.race." 
The quizzing humor of this character whom the author as- 
sures us was not altogether a "man of straw," but a verita- 
ble original, delights and entertains the reader. Another 
slsH'tch ricli in enjoyment is the "Militia Muster." As de- 
scribed by the author, though it might be a drilling and a 
lireparation of the yeomary of the country for war, but from 
the military display made, it was as unwarlike as possible. 
It was a holiday spectacle for the boys, the women and chil- 
dren. The aged survivor from that period, who then as a 
boy was a spectator, or served in ranks as a substitute for 
some older ])erson, as did the writer of this article, reiuem- 
bers well how the idle pageant captivated his youthful fancy, 
and how "he felt that swelling of the heart that he should 
never feel again." He can tell how the sight inflamed his 
bosom with martial ardor, and with the war legends of 
1776 and 1 8 [2 thrilling in memory, how lie longed to fight 
willi tile "I'.ritishers," the historic foe, whilom of the colo- 
nies and tlien of the vStates. Tt is pleasant to recall those 
<lays of sweet tranqm'Ility, republican simplicity and honest 
patriotism. 

There are other pieces in "(ieorgia Scenes" cipi.-il in 
literary merit to those that have been mentioned, but the 
character of these essays and the space allotted to them for- 



92 SOUTHKRN LITERATURE. 

l)ids a noti\-c oi each topic o( a book. Tt has boon stated 
that the author in the dcchniiu;- years of his Hfo desired to 
call in ail existing- eopies of the "hook" and suppress all 
further publications of it. The motive that would prompt 
him to contemplate such a piu-pose can only be inferretl, as 
there was no explanation of it given to the public. It may 
be brietly surmised that it was perhaps owing to that spirit 
of gravity that comes over the heart and mind in old age. 
and leails to a change in one's notions and conceptions of 
earthly things ami actions »|uite dilTerent to those that guid- 
c(\ and governed in youth aiul manluHid. 

\\'hen properly consitlered. there is nothing in "Geor- 
gia Scenes" to which a fastidious literary taste or a rigid 
morality can t\nnnl a fundamenlal til>jection. Some time 
ago a northern ne\\s]iaper would base a criticism upon the 
South bv referring to the characters and maimers j^resented 
in the "Scenes" as being descriptive or exponential of the 
Southern people. The tort ami injustice of such an argu- 
ment and conclusion are too apparent to require refutation. 
So far as the temleney of the "Scenes" to impair taste or 
culture, they may be said to have the opposite effect, as in 
the striking contrast presented they make an impressive 
appeal to the reader lor the graces of education. As to 
their moial tone and effect they incite to the practice of vir- 
tue bv showing the deformities of vice. 

Southern wit has been fruitful in the tield o\ comic or 
humorous lileralme. There are i[uite a mnuber of authors 
who have catered lo the amusement oi the public by the 
proiluctions o\ their pens. There apiK\ars iirst upon the 
roll in the earlv davs. Thonipson in the laughable story of 
"!Major Jones's Courtship." I'lieu C'lemmens ojums up a 
rare fund oi amusement in the rac\- character itf "Cai>tain 
Simciu Suggs." \'e\t, Harris comes out in the broad cari- 
catures of "Sut l.uveugood" and carries jocosity to its far- 
thest extent. I'ill .\rp. from the trickling fount of humor, 
in his "I.etters to the Constitution." now for half a cen- 
tury has sent forth a geni:d current to refresh the reading 
public. The author oi "(.KHirgia Scenes" holds an hon- 
orable ]ilace among these sportive wits and purveyors of 
mirth for mankind. He who has never read this book has 



Augustus B. Iy()N(;sTRi';KT. 93 

in reservation a store of enjoyment in the coniie scenc^s and 
pietnres vvliieh it ])resents, fresli and -lowing' from [hv \):\^qs 
of real life. 

J)r. Lonj;street was liki'wise the anlhor of a series of 
letters on the once j^reatly exeilins;- snhjeet of the aholition 
(»f slavery at the Sonth, pnhlished in pamphlet form, and 
addressed to the State of Massachnsi'lts, mider lln' ahhre- 
viated namt- of "Dear Mass." The writer of this article 
can not speak of llie political and literary merits of those 
"Letters," as, when he glanced over tluin in hoyhood, he 
was too young to form an opinion of them. It can hut be 
snpi>osed that they were able ])a])ers upon the subject, as 
Jud,i^e i-ongstreet from the logical cast of his mind, Icg^al 
training and social environments was well (pialified to dis- 
cuss the (|m'stion of slavery in all its ])hases and features. 

They did not however stay tln' tide of Northern fanati- 
•cism upon the subject. It is unnecessary to say how it was 
pressed and urged until it immerged into civil war, drenched 
with blood the fair fields of the Sonth, and has enslavi'd the 
•C(juntry to party tyranny and in financial bondage. The 
virus of the old sectional hostility to the South still exists. 
Tt was l)ut the other day, March 10, 189S, that Dr. l<!d wards, 
editor of the Northern Christian Advocate, in an articU- in 
his paper, came out in strong^ opposition to the l)ill that had 
|)assed the Mouse of ke])resenlatives of Congress for in- 
<<Ieninification to the Southern Methodist Publishing 1 louse 
for tlu' damage sustained from the occni)ation of its build- 
ings by the Union army during^ the war. 

Having^ considered the character and ability of this honor- 
ed son of Georg^ia as a lawyer and as an author and his 
claims to distinction, it c(Miies in order to view him as a 
minister of the gos])cl. The chang-c and diversity in pro- 
fessional pm-snits that marked his career in life would 
seenn'ngly indicate that he was fickle in disposition and that 
he necessarily could have attained only to a smooth medioc- 
rity, or that he had genius of intellect that enabled him to 
fulfill a])])ro])riately the duties of every station into which 
he was g^uidcd and placed by Divine Providence. The world 
has produced very few minds that possessed versatility of 



94 Southern Literature. 

talent to that degree that they could succeed or become 
eminent in more than one occupation or pursuit in life. 

As it has been shown that he was successful both in the 
law and in literature, it implies stability of purpose, "high 
resolve, that column of majesty in man." and precludes 
the supposition that fickleness was an attribute of his char- 
acter. Under this view of things it becomes fit to award to 
him the rare endowment of genius. 

At what period in life he engaged in the work of the min- 
istry, whether before or after he had retired from the prac- 
tice of the law, can not be definitely stated by the writer of 
this article. The sentiment or persuasion has prevailed in 
the popular mind that the vocations of the lawyer aud of 
the minister are incompatible with each other. " Why they 
should be otherwise than harmonious is a matter of in- 
quiry. The office of each is high and sacred. One is the 
expounder of human laws ; the other of divine law. Each 
in his sphere is a minister for good to mankind. The law- 
yers as mentioned in the Scriptures have unsavory records. 
It is said of them they stood up tempting Christ. They 
were the satellites of the Sanhedrin and were severely de- 
nounced by the Saviour for their subtlety and wickedness. 
It is said that he commended one and told him that he was 
not far from the kingdom of heaven. It is not recorded as 
a sequel that he reached it. The popular notion, that it is 
the office and business of lawyers to thwart the ends of 
justice, and that they must stoop to dirty tricks in order to 
succeed in their cases, is not founded in logic or in fact, 
though some may do it. As a class they always hold the 
places of honor and preferment in a government : they bear 
the seals of State, give counsel to senates and kings and 
carry on their lips and in their hands the destinies of na- 
tions. All should seek to merit the eulogy given by Horace 
in one of his odes to Asinius PoUio, a Roman lawyer, whom 
he extols as being a distinguished source of aid to the sor- 
rowful accused. 

The ministry of the gospel is the highest position to which 
the human mind can aspire. Its occupants are to minister 
as of the ability that God giveth. Its labors are reckoned 
as those of grace and not of debt. It has none of the hon- 



Augustus B. Longstrekt. 95 

ors to bestow that awaken human ambition. It has no 
statues of marble or of bronze to unveil in posthumous com- 
memoration of its servants, as the world does to the memory 
of its heroes and statesmen. The old wreath of fame, the 
gauds of wealth, or burial in a silent crypt in Westminster 
Abbey arc too paltry rewards for the high service rendered. 
Heaven alone pronounces meet compensation in the crown 
of eternal life. Their skill in exegesis of Scripture, in doc- 
trine, or in eloquent speech may awaken human admiration 
and applause, but tlie seal to their ministry is the number of 
souls saved and brought to God by their preaching. 

This servant of Christ held his vocation as a minister of 
the Gospel in exalted regard. To him it was a delightful 
task, an absorbing desire to proclaim the glad tidings of 
salvation. This was fully demonstrated in the fact and 
circumstances that when he resigned his position as presi- 
dent of Emory College and through some misunderstand- 
ing failed to be elected chancellor of the University of Mis- 
sissippi by the board of trustees of that institution, he gladly 
turned to the ministry. He continued thus engaged for 
over a year, when he was called to the chancellorship of 
the above-mentioned institution, the board of trustees hav- 
ing repaired their error. He writes that the short period 
of his work in the ministry was the happiest of his life, and 
it was only through the most urgent persuasion of his 
friends that he consented to retire from it and accept the 
high position tendered him. 

The position which Dr. Longstreet filled for fifteen 
or twenty years, first as president of Emory College, Ox- 
ford, Ga., then as chancellor of the State University of Mis- 
sissippi, afi:'ord ample evidence of the high consideration in 
which he was held by his contemporaries. The presidency 
of a collegiate institution, though it may not bring large re- 
nown to the incumbent, yet it is desirable for the tranquil 
sphere and pursuit of literature which it presents. To per- 
form appropriately its dtities oftentimes requires the tact 
and executive ability requisite for the government of the 
State or republic. The circumstances which led to the elec- 
tion of Dr. Longstreet as president of Emory College are 
unknown to the writer of this article. The institution was 



-96 Southern Literature. 

in its infancy and could pay only small salaries to its faculty. 
Two things alone might have induced him to accept the 
position ; a hroad philanthropy and his love of Methodism. 

The congeniality of his office as president of a .:ollege 
with that of the ministry of the gospel might not be ques- 
tioned as touched upon in reference to the practice of the 
law. It is said of Arnold, the great Rugby schoolmaster, 
that he sought the clerical office in order to give weight to 
"his character and instructions as a preceptor of youth. It is, 
however, considered by many not to comport with the work 
of teaching in the lower schools. They hold that there is 
an inharmony in the teacher of an academic or common 
school being also a preacher, as it is apt to make him too 
lenient in discipline so as to spoil the pupil, or that the 
trials to which he is exposed will so try his patience and 
make him so cross as to mar the preacher. In denomina- 
tional colleges it is regarded as fit and proper that each 
member of the faculty should be a preacher, and especially 
for the president as the representative of the institution to 
liave the grace and power of pulpit oratory, so as to gain 
popular favor. 

His regency of Emory College, aided by his co-associates 
of the faculty, amply demonstrated his executive capacity as 
a presiding officer. His ability in this respect perhaps led to 
liis election as chancellor of the University of Mississippi. 
It was in this last position he closed his career in the active 
duties of life. From all reports he administered the aflfairs 
of tliat institution with due success. 

Had the ambition of Dr. Longstreet prompted him to 
■enter the field of politics, there is no doubt but that he would 
have reached a high point of preferment. He would have 
won and worn the toga of the senator in Congress instead 
of the student's gown and the bays of scholarship as the 
president of a literary institution. To the gifts already 
mentioned he added the sparkling grace and genius for 
music. He may be likened to Jefferson in versatility of 
mind as well as in person, character, and manners. He 
was fond of tlie flute and often after nightfall from his 
■chamber window might be heard the soft notes of his flute 
floating amid the dells and oak-crowned streets of the rural 



George F. Pierce. 97 

^■illage of Oxford. This trait and hal)it of tliis gifted man 
•opens an inner page in the volume of his Hfe that tells of a 
.soul of beauty and sweetness. In the closing lines of this 
•essay, the writer feels a sense of his failure to portray in 
full force, power and lineament the attributes of mind and 
•character of this eminent man. 

Many years since he met the inevitable fate that awaits 
alike the high and lowly of earth. His remains now lie 
in the precincts of the grave. No doubt the column of mar- 
ble or of bronze, insculped with worthy epitaph, has been 
erected to his name and memory by the citizens of Ox- 
ford. To him as her devoted and illustrious son should 
the South render her tribute of threefold honors, in token 
of his distinction as a jurist, author and minister of the 
'Gospel. 



GEORGE F. PIERCE. 

It is said by a modern poet that "the world knows noth- 
ing of its greatest men." Like the stars of heaven in their 
mystic spaces they shine afar off, and are unapproachable 
in their greatness. They are like to Numa, the Roman 
king, who would enwrap himself in mystery and claim to 
•derive his wisdom from the goddess Egeria ; or as it is 
said of the divine Milton, "that his soul dwelt apart, like a 
star, and mixed not with the common herd of men" ; or as 
the great Washington whose reflections as the leader of the 
army of the American colonies were hidden under his re- 
•served demeanor. They are known to the world in the spe- 
cial art or function in which they have attained excellence 
and won popular attention and renown as poet, orator, or 
■statesman. Thus it may be said of George F. Pierce, the sub- 
ject of this essay. He is known to the world as the great 
divine, the eloquent orator, matchless, grand, beautiful, and 
glorious. 

In contemplating the great, there is a desire in the mind 
to know something of the facts and events of their lives, 
.and trace their path and progress to popular notice and dis- 

7 si 



gS Southern Literature. 

tinction. Such would naturally be the case in reg;H-cl ta 
Bishop Pierce, in view of his illustrious and beautiful life 
and unrivaled powers of oratory. To trace the elements of 
his g-reatness the mind would tend in speculative thoui^ht to 
look even to his boyhood's hour, and ponder the moral and 
intellectual traits that marked that period. The inquiry 
would arise, was there a shining forth of genius and the 
budding grace and beauty of thought and speech in the 
epoch of his early school-life? Did he exhibit the love of 
learning, assiduity of study, and the intellectual precocity 
of "Chatterton, that marvelous boy"? Was there in the 
sweet lexicon of youth which he unfolded the noble pur- 
pose, the high resolve and the ideal dream of the soul that 
gave promise of a worthy manhot)d ? The family chronicle 
interrogated would no doubt bear testimony from its un- 
written page to the proud hopes that filled the hearts oi 
his parents in fond augury of the future of their son in view 
of the inciyient intlicalions of character and intellect. 

Then, in the higher plane of his intellectual cvilturc. 
when as a stutlent he entered I'ranklin college, the State 
University at Athens, Georgia, there too would come the 
thought, dill he with scholastic diligence trim the midnight 
lamp and with the supremacy of genius make learning his 
plaything? Did he delight in the Iliad of Greek Homer, with 
its voluptuous rh3'^thm and burning picturelike words, and 
in the .-Eneid of Latin X'irgil, with its majesty of verse and 
tender touches of character? Did he discern under the veil 
of an unknown language the fiery vehemence and sublime 
argument of Demosthenes and the miUler glow of eloquence 
in the polished periods of Cicero? The grace and purity of 
style that marked his composition in after years evinced the 
benefit he realized from the study of these models of classic 
anti(iuity. In jileasing inquiry the mind would ponder, 
which shone the briiihter. he or Toombs, the grand, chival- 
ric son of the South, with whom he former! a lifelong 
friendship, and whom he received into the church in the de- 
clining years of his life. Then in his graduating sjieech 
was there a nascent exhibition of the power, the witchery, 
the soul of elocution, the lightning of mind and the thunder 
of voice that gave him supremacy in the realm of ora- 



GKORGK F. PlKRCE. 99 

tory in after years? It may well be presumed that the 
\ oiithful speaker on commencement day won the ajjplause of 
ihe autUence that had g'athered in Karge concourse to attend 
I he exercises, and they awarded him the old-time laurel 
with which "The \'iolet City" of ancient Greece crowned 
its orators. 

luiterini; upon the staije of active life, as ever with 
noble spirits, ambition filled his mind with dreams of 
])referment and honor. In dazzlinj^- i^low the j^^lory of the 
statesmen and orators of the revolutionary strut^gle of 1776 
still rested upon the political horizon of the country. The 
establishment of schools, colleges, the diffusion of knowl- 
edge and the means of intellectual culture had awakened 
the ambition of the po])ular mind. Parents were ambitious 
for their sons to become great and honored in the walks 
of public life, and the young re])ublic opened a broad field 
for the attainment of political distinction. Yielding to the 
trend of these influences, it is said in oral tradition that he 
chose the law as a profession, as opening a rapid and suc- 
cessful way to eminence in civil and political affairs. This 
statement, however, may be a popular fiction, having no real 
foundation in fact. 

Then transpired in his life the event that in the light of 
divine revelation constitutes the solemn fact of man's being, 
the great purpose of human existence. He embraced relig- 
ion, accepted the salvation of the gospel, experienced the 
new life wrought in the heart by the Holy Ghost through 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, became allied to Heaven, and 
was uplifted to the hope of immortal life. The fact and 
circumstances of his conversion, the writer of this sketch 
heard him relate in a brief and incidental manner from the 
l")ulpit. It was on this wise. He said that a young man 
became deeply concerned upon the subject of religion. He 
was attending a religious service, and the invitation being 
given, he went as a penitent to the altar for prayer. Such 
was his deep concern and wrestling of soul, that after the 
congregation was dismissed and had retired from the place 
of worship, he still remained at the mourner's bench bowed 
in prayer, with the shadows of twilight gathering around 
him. At the hour of the next service as the congregation 



loo Southern Literature. 

were assembling, the young man felt a deep calm to come 
over his spirit. He arose from his kneeling posture and 
retired to a seat in the rear of the congregation, and during 
the service sat in silent meditation, with great peace of 
soul. 

Then came a change of avocation. To plead in the law 
before the courts of human judicature was not to be his life- 
work and career. The Divine Being, who commissioned 
]\Ioses to be the deliverer of the Israelites from Egyptian 
bondage, and chose Paul from his birth to grace and apostle- 
ship among the Gentiles, called the youthful Pierce to the 
ministry of the gospel. In this high and holy vocation, as 
"the messenger of truth, the legate of the skies, his theme 
divine, his credentials clear, by him the violated law should 
speak out its thunders, and the gospel whisper peace in 
strains as sweet as angels use." How sublime the example 
he set for all time. His choice was that of Moses. In his 
young manhood, with all his charming attributes of mind 
and person, and brilliant prospects of success and honor 
clustering around his future, he chose the humble lot of 
the itinerant Methodist preacher with its hardships and 
sacrifice, rather than the wealth and ease of the successful 
lawyer. 

There was a full consecration of himself to the work of 
the gospel. His choice was final and absolute. His devot- 
edness to Christ was complete. He preached his first ser- 
mon at Monticello, Jasper county, Georgia. This statement 
the author heard him make to a group of students when in 
social conversation with them, the second year after his 
election as president of Emor}- College. In speaking of the 
sermon, he said at that time Monticello was noted for its 
wickedness. With a smile, he remarked, "I poured down 
upon it the fires of Sodom and Gomorra'h in sophomoric 
style." The personal knowledge the writer has of Bishop 
Pierce began in the "forties" of the past century. It was 
at the Upson county camp-meeting to which he came as 
a visiting preacher from Macon, Georgia. He was heard 
with delight by the vast throngs that collected in attendance 
upon his preaching. 

It was in the fall of 1848 that the writer as a student of 



George F. Pierce. ioi 

Emory college came under the administration of Bishop 
Pierce, who had been elected president of the institution in 
the place of Dr. A. B. Longstreet, who had resigned. He 
remembers with what interest the students gathered at the 
church at the first service Dr. Pierce held. During his 
collegiate course of two years the writer often heard him 
preach. He was never trite, but always eloquent and fasci- 
nating. It was in the fall of 1848, that, perhaps, he heard 
him at the highest pitch of his oratory. There had been a 
protracted meeting held and carried on for several days for 
the religious benefit of the students. The interest of the 
meeting had flagged. It threatened an entire collapse. It 
was on Sabbath night that Dr. Pierce filled the pulpit. 
In the discourse he delivered for one hour or more, he held 
his audience mute, statuesque and in rapt attention. He 
seemed the impersonation of Apollo, the old Greek god of 
eloquence. The pleroma of divine inspiration seemed to 
envelop him in its radiant glory. He appeared to stagger 
as it were under the burden and grandeur of his theme. 
His sermon was like a burning orb rolling through mid- 
heaven enveloped in its own fires and flashing incessant cor- 
uscations. At the close of the sermon in response to the 
invitation given, perhaps forty students went eagerly to the 
altar for prayer. 

Bishop Pierce was gifted by nature with both the physical 
and intellectual attributes that make the orator. He pos- 
sessed grace and symmetry of person and preserved them 
through all the stages of life, and the very autumn of ai 
form once fine retained its beauties. His mind was truly 
poetic. He possessed the genius, spirit and inspiration of 
poetry and the pictured stores of the imagination. This 
was the grand faculty of his intellectual composition and 
source of his eloquence. *Tt is poetry that promotes the 
most desirable combinations of qualities — dignity and en- 
thusiasm; power of sarcasm and the power of soothing; 
philosophy which does not despise the soarings of the ima- 
gination ; imagination which does not spurn the restraints of 
philosophy ; eloquence which can thrill with terror, inflame 
with anger, or transport with joy; can rouse the patriotism 
of a nation or dissolve a world in tears. Judgment, genius 



I02 Southern Literature. 

and the poets make the orator." In the case of the pulpit 
orator add to these the live coal that touched Isaiah's hal- 
lowed lips with fire. 

Bishop Pierce had native greatness of intellect, but his 
gifts of oratory were not altogether spontaneous. He was 
a hard student in the realm of thought. He studied the 
Bible daily and was a diligent reader of Shakespeare. He 
illustrated in his practice his own theory, that "among men 
those are most distinguished for thought and felicity of 
expression whose professions and pursuits most constantly 
tax the thinking faculty on the high themes of statesman- 
ship, philosophy and religion. The deep thoughts, the ma- 
ture judgments, the continuous reasonings for which great 
men are celebrated are not natural or spontaneous, the fa- 
cile, untrained working of original powers. They are ac- 
quisitions, habits, the results of hard study and long prac- 
tise ; and after all our boasted pre-eminence, very few reach 
high distinction in the departments where they claim to 
excel. Profound thinkers are rare — the prodigies of their 
generation. The present age is wholly degenerate ; the 
race of great men is nearly extinct." In his instruction to 
the classes in rhetoric, he advised them to prepare their 
tropes and figures of speech beforehand, and never to leave 
them to the inspiration of the hour. The volume of ser- 
mons published since his death furnish fine specimens of 
the graces of his composition and eloquence of speech, and 
will be a beautiful and enduring literary monument to his 
name and memory. 



ALEXANDER MEANS. 

It lies not in the compass of the human mind to forecast 
the career in life or future destiny of an individual from the 
accidents of his birth and the conditions of his fortune. Yet 
mankind, in their eager desire to know what particular al- 
lotment in life time will develop for them, have sought this 
occult knowledge in various ways and from different 
sources. Thev have linked earthlv destinies with the stars 



Alexander Means. 103 

that nightly shine in mystic beauty above, and from the as- 
pect of the planet in the ascendant at the hour of one's na- 
tivity, they would discern what for him lies hidden in the 
book of fate. They have sought augurs and soothsayers, 
who claimed to have prescience of coming events and 
Icnowledge of the will of the gods from various omens and 
;signs. 

To such fancies they have yielded, when plain fact and 
•common sense, speaking from the great tripod of human 
experience, in oracular voice proclaims that in the economy 
of things divine wisdom has so arranged it, that every 
individual of the race has in his own hands the threads of 
"his destiny, and is "the architect of his own fortune." Those 
who have accepted this theory and state of things have be- 
'Come the great and honored men of the world. They have 
risen to fortune and farne not by the aid of wealth and the 
prestige of ancestral name, but by dint of their own efforts. 
They are the c^lf-made men whom the world loves so much 
to eulogize. 

It is a beautiful thought and a better philosophy to con- 
•sider the great purpose of being and individuality of char- 
acter as furnishing the true principles of human action and 
the foundation of a just and noble life. Each one is born 
into the world a fresh, new soul, intended of God to de- 
velop himself in a new, fresh way and to be conformed to 
the divine image. To that end he has furnished to him all the 
means and aids both in the material and spiritual world to 
the accomplishment of the task. It is only in this way he 
comes up to the standard of his high prerogative as an im- 
mortal being. This theory and principle found exemplifi- 
cation in the life-career of Alexander Means, D.D., LL.D., 
the subject of this essay. Working out the life that is com- 
mon to all, according to the character of the moral and in- 
tellectual attributes God had given him, and with the aids 
of religion, literature and science, he possessed a rare and 
fascinating personality and a just and beautiful fame among 
men. Though of less than medium height, yet his broad 
and symmetrical brow, eyes of tender blue, vivid with 
the light of genius, features expressive of intellectual 



I04 Southern Literature. 

culture and refinement, with grace and dignity of man- 
ners, rendered him impressive in person and bearing. 

He was of Irish parentage, and it is said that he was- 
born on the voyage of his parents across the Atlantic ocean 
in their immigration to America. His infancy was rocked 
in the cradle of the deep and the breezes of the ocean 
rattling through the cordage of the vessel sung his first 
lullaby. His parents came to Georgia and settled in one 
of the eastern counties of the State, perhaps in Greene or 
Putnam county. It would be pleasant to trace the period 
and history of his boyhood, his struggles with poverty 
and his youthful efforts and progress in the work of his 
intellectual culture until he reached manhood, but over it 
rests the mantle of silence. 

He appears upon the arena of public life as a stu- 
dent of medicine and a physician. At an early period he 
entered the local ministry of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church. This opened to him the field of oratory, whicli 
was the special sphere adapted to his genius and the road 
to distinction. What training he had, how much he stud- 
ied and practised the arts of elocution, is not known to the 
writer. In a brief space of time he acquired reputation as- 
an orator. The exact posture of things is not known, when 
he was elected principal of the Manual Labor School at 
Covington, Ga. The notion prevailed with some minds 
at that day as well as at the present time, that it was a 
good thing in the work of youthful education to blend 
physical and intellectual training as being reciprocally ben- 
eficial. The experiment in this case, as usual, proved a 
delusion and a dream, and failed. The two, when tried in 
joint association, arc incompatible from the nature of things. 
The trained intellect and the skilled right hand in combi- 
nation have given to civilized man his supremacy, but let 
the work be separate and distinct. 

Early in the establishment of Emory College as an 
institution of learning he was elected ta the department 
of Physical Science. The writer as a student of the col- 
lege came under his instruction in this position for the 
period of two and a half years. It was a delightful task and 
source of scientific knowledge to hear him in eloquent lee- 



Alkxander Means. 105 

tiirc and with Ijrilliant ex])eriment in the laboratory un- 
fold and illustrate the subtle laws of chemistry, or explain 
in g-lowing- oratory the phenomena of the great laws of 
nature in their operation, or in astronomical dissertation 
on the soaring- wing of imagination to disport among suns, 
stars and systems. 

* In the course of his lectures he related an interesting 
incident that illustrated an important feature of his char- 
acter and conveys an instructive moral lesson, as well as 
the secret of his success in life. He was on a tour North, 
and at the city of New York, when Rev. Wilbur Fisk, D.D., 
of the Methodist Episcopal Church died. Two of the res- 
ident clergymen of the city invited him to go with them to 
attend the funeral services of the deceased brother-min- 
ister. He went early and at the appointed hour was at 
the wharf to take the vessel that was to convey them to 
the point of destination. The two clerical friends were 
not punctual. The boat departed at the hour set, and they 
were left. On arriving at the place of burial, as a visitor 
from Georgia he was invited to preach the funeral dis- 
course. As ever ready, according to his habit, he re- 
sponded to the invitation and charmed the large concourse 
of people present with his oratory. 

He was elected president of Emory College in 1854, to 
fill the vacancy occasioned by the resignation of Rev. 
George F. Pierce, D.D., elected Bishop at the General Con- 
ference of the M. E. Church, South, held at Columbus, Ga., 
the same year, This position he held and filled with emi- 
nent ability for a series of years. In gracious response to 
the invitation given by the author as principal of the Fort 
Valley Female Seminary, he delivered the address at the 
commencement exercises of that institution of learning 
July, 1857. He had recently returned from a tour to Eu- 
rope. For the space of two hours or more he held the 
audience charmed with the literary grace and beauty of 
his address and his fascinating oratory, now stirring the 
soul to tears and now awakening laughter. 

He had the genius of the poet as well as the sublime 
thought and mellifluent speech of the orator. In the lec- 
ture room one day in furtherance of illustration of the 



io6 SoxTTHERN Literature. 

topic under consideration, he read a part of a poem on the 
Noachian deUige, as he said to the class, written in Miltonic 
verse. A poem titled "Farewell and Greeting to the Old 
and New Year," published since his death, is a fair speci- 
men of his style and talent. His Irish genius did not revel 
in the blossoms of fancy in the flowering realm of thought, 
like the bees of Erin's green isle, his fatherland, that on 
nights serene and radiant are wont to tarry in the silken 
folds of the flowers and repose on their beds of sweets un- 
til morning. It preferred the grand and excursive flights 
of the imagination in the field of oratory. His sermon as 
published in "The Methodist Pulpit, South," is a fine spec- 
imen of his style of composition and thought, and though 
it is a simple shaft, yet it should be an enduring monument 
in the field of letters to his memorv. 



ALEXANDER B. MEEK. 

It is an old-time adage that the poet is born and the 
orator is made. "It is said of Pope, the great versifier, 
that he lisped in numbers from the cradle." The mmd of 
Chatterton. "the marvelous boy that perished in his pride," 
is said to have burst at once into full flower. At eleven 
years of age he wrote verses that were equal to the early 
productions of the master minds of any epoch of time. 
Like a tropic plant the genius of the poet springs up and 
opens into blossom in a night. 

It is sometimes the case that the gift of song is slow of 
development in the mind and seems to be the creation of 
art rather than the spontaneous outgrowth of the intel- 
lect. This is strikingly exem])lified in the instances of 
Horace and Virgil, the renowned poets of classic Rome. 
These each had reached the full years of manhood before 
they essayed the task of writing poetry. The one excel- 
led in lyric verse, the other in the stately epic. It requires 
time, matured powers of mind, and the rich harvest of 
thought which learning and experience give, in order to 



Alkxandkr B, Mkkk. 107 

produce those poems that carry in them the elements of 
duration to other ages. 

It is pleasant to write in mcnioriain of the Hon. A. B. 
Meek of Alabama and to pay tribute to his merits as a wri- 
ter. Years ago he came l^efore the literary public in a 
volume of poems as the product of his talent as a poet. 
That amidst the study of the principles and the dry forms 
of law and the duties of the legal profession, he should 
have the taste or find time to indulge in the intellectual 
recreation of writing poetry affords strong evidence of the 
existence of the poetical faculty of his mind. It may be that 
the circumstances that environed his childhood and youth 
fostered the poetic element of his nature. It was in the 
early days of Alabama that he began his career. That his 
imagination was enkindled by the scenery and the grace 
and beauty of the various objects in nature that met his 
eye may be inferred from the themes of his poems. The 
names of the rivers, and even the name of the State, Ala- 
bama, would remind him of the Indian race that but a 
few years before had occupied the country, pursued their 
sylvan sports, built their council fires and lived in the un- 
tutored grace of children of the forest. 

Judge Meek, as a lawyer, rose to eminence at the bar. 
He was distinguished and honored by the people of the 
State for his al)ility as a jurist. In his culture of literature 
he was a contributor to the Southern Literary Messenger, 
published at Richmond, Va., in the "forties"- of the cen- 
tury. The writer of- this article, then a boy, remembers 
reading a poem from his pen upon the sad fate of a mock- 
ing-bird slain by the cat. that "lion of the parlor." He re- 
calls to mind a classic figure of speech in which the poel 
speaks of the mocking-l)ird as "Euterpe's winged and frol- 
icsome child." 

He was intensely Southern in his taste and feelings as 
indicated in the topics of his poems. The flowers, the beau- 
tiful children of nature, so lovingly regarded by the poets 
in all ages, that found a place in his songs were those of 
his own Southern clime. He simg the praise of the catalpa, 
whose blossoms, with their delicate streaks of purple and 
calyxes of gold, are fit to adorn the banquet of the gods. 



io8 Southern Literature. 

He exults in the magnolia, that stands a miracle of beantv 
in the dark and murky swamps of his own State, formmg 
with its varnished leaves of deep, dark green and rich pro- 
fusion of snow-white blossoms a poem in itself and a vol- 
ume of fragrance. The mocking-bird, the unrivaled song- 
ster of the feathered tribe, that gladdens the day with its 
roundelays and breaks the stillness of the night with snatches 
of its varied notes of melody, is by him duly celebrated. 

His book of poems embraces a variety of subjects, com- 
prising descriptions of nature and incidents of the time 
that were worthy of the muse of song. The longest poem 
is titled "The Poet's Bridal Tour." It has the merry notes 
of the epithalamium or marriage song with the incidents 
of the trip interwoven in all the glowing colors of happi- 
ness with which that juncture and event in life are always 
associated. His poems entitle him to an honorable rank 
among the writers of the South, and have a place in the 
libraries of Southern homes. 



DANIEL A. CHANDLER. 

It is incident in the history of poetic minds that with as- 
siduous toil or with the sudden dazzling stroke of genius, 
thev execute an ode or song whose rhythm and sentiment 
strike a responsive chord in the great heart of mankind 
and the one piece fixes their literary claim forever. Gray 
was engaged eight years in composing his elegy, and upon 
it rests his renown as a poet. "The Bivouac of the Dead," 
by OHara, seems to have been struck out and molded into 
its solemn majesty and sublime beauty at one inspiring 
glow of the mind. So with Burns's "Bonnie Doon," or 
"The Lass of Ballochmyle." It is usually the one and the 
first book or poem that marks the genius of the writer. 

This uniqueness of literary achievement and honor char- 
acterizes the claim of Hon. Daniel A. Chandler, the subject 
of this article, to distinction in the realm of letters. There 
is but one literary production known to the writer to have 
emanated from his pen. This was an address upon Female 



Daniel A. Chandler. 109 

Education delivered by him at the commencement exercises 
of the State University at Athens, Ga., in 1842. He was 
a graduate of that institution , and was chosen either by the 
alumni as orator or by the faculty to the task. 

At the time this address was delivered the education of 
the female sex was coequal with that of the male and went 
hand in hand with it through the common schools. There 
were boarding-schools here and there which embraced the 
teaching of some of the ornamental branches of education, 
such as needle-work, painting and music. Ordinarily, when 
girls had passed through the school age and had received 
the rudiments of the education of the times, this was sup- 
p-lemented by domestic training at home. A knowledge of 
spinning, weaving and of all the arts of housewifery was 
deemed essential and requisite in order for them to per- 
form the duties of their sphere in life. There must be a 
laying up of supplies for the new state and preparation 
for the needs which that inevitable event marriage would 
bring. The chest of counterpanes and bedquilts, over which 
they had toiled with hearts and minds filled with rosy 
dreams of life's hymeneal future, was regarded as a nec- 
essary outfit for the young couple who were to begin life's 
journey together. 

There were no collegiate institutions in the land opening 
their portals to the sex and inviting to the higher walks of 
learning. Alany things conspired to give magnetic force 
and power to the address ; the theme was comparatively 
new and of grand social importance; the occasion was the 
annual literary festival of the State Institution of Learn- 
ing ; the audience were the ^lite of the State ; and the place 
was Athens, which as the abode of culture and refinement 
well might vie with the violet-crowned city of ancient 
Greece. The address in itself possessed high intrinsic ex- 
cellence. The exordium was at once awakening and im- 
pressive. The range of inquiry and illustration was broad 
and comprehensive. The eloquence of thought, the grace 
and beauty of diction, and the exquisite touches of fancy 
and feeling rendered the address a masterpiece of compo- 
:sition, unexcelled by any of the century. As an instance 



no Southern Literature. 

of its merits, the paragraphs that present man and wo- 
man in contrast, may be cited. 

The effect of its delivery upon the audience was magi- 
cal. The applause which he received, especially from the 
female portion of his auditory, was as delicate and intoxi- 
cating as the perfume of flowers. This address was not 
ephemeral in its effects. It is the pebble dropped into the 
still bosom of the lake that produces the tiny wavelet which 
spreads and increases until it reaches the distant shore. 
The popular mind was aroused upon the subject of female 
education, and this was the inauguration of that magnifi- 
cent era which has filled the land with colleges for women 
and bestowed upon them all the facilities needful for high 
and liberal intellectual culture. 



HENRY R. JACKSON. 

It was anciently the custom at the royal courts of Persia 
when the courtiers and others came into the presence of 
the monarch for them to cry out, "O king, live forever." 
This salutation was in the spirit of servile adulation. Diu- 
turnity of existence is the dream and folly of expectation. 
"Time is the king of men," says the English poet. The re- 
volving years plant furrows upon the brow of man, dim the 
luster of his eyes, fade the bloom of his cheeks, rob hmi of 
the music of his voice, shut from his ears the harmony of 
sounds, impair the strength and beauty of his form, and 
when death ensues, lay it low in the silent sepulcher. 
Though such is the doom and destiny of the race, yet it 
is the disposition of the human heart to desire to live in the 
memory of the world. 

A few make for themselves historic record and are re- 
membered. The millions of each generation pass away like 
the flowers of spring, or fall to the ground like the leaves 
of autumn, and in cold obstruction rot and are soon for- 
gotten. Those who hold a place of honor and remembrance 
among men have accomplished it through the medium of 
the pen or the sword. The poet writes a song or poem 



Hknrv R. Jackson. hi 

that accords with the great Hving heart of humanity, and 
his name is syllahled with the music and sentiment of it 
to distant ages. So it is with the warrior, in the battle 
fought and the victory won. 

It is as a soldier, orator, poet and jurist that the distin- 
guished subject of this sketch, Hon. Henry R. Jackson, is 
entitled to the preservation of his name and memory at 
the hands of history, the reverend chronicler of time. It 
may briefly be said of him that he was born at Athens, Ga., 
June 24, 1820. He attended Princeton College ; and grad- 
uated at Yale College in 1839, and was admitted to the bar 
of Georgia in 1840. He practised at Savannah, and in 1843 
was appointed U. S. district attorney. He was judge of 
circuit court in 1849-53, when he was appointed U. S. 
minister to Austria, a position which he held until 1859, 
when he resigned and resumed the practice of his profes- 
sion in Savannah ; during this year, he conducted the 
prosecution of tlie celebrated case of the United States gov- 
ernment against the "slaver Wanderer," that had landed 
a cargo of Africans on the coast of Georgia. This brief 
biographical sketch fully attests his ability as a jurist and 
it needs no comment or eulogium. He still resides at 
Savannah, actively engaged in the duties of his profes- 
sion. 

He ranks high as an orator. His style of oratory is 
persuasive and pleasing, being characterized by eloquent 
thought, polished dii^tion and graceful delivery. The ex- 
tracts published from his speech of a tribute to Georgia 
and from the one in the case of resisting probate of the will 
of Hester Goldsmith, upon the grounds of insanity, are fine 
specimens of eloquent composition. As a soldier he dis- 
tinguished himself in the Mexican war and was colonel of 
a regiment of volunteers. In the civil war he served (by 
appointment of the governor) as major-general of the mil- 
itary forces of Georgia, and then as brigadier-general 
of Volunteers in the Confederate army until captured in 
the disastrous Tennessee campaign. In his military career 
he acquired a fair and just fame. 

As a poet he has presented to the literary world a vol- 
nme of poems as the product of his poetic talent. "Tallulah," 



112 Southern Literature. 

the chief poem, comprises a description of the waterfall of 
that name with an Indian legend interwoven. It has pas- 
sages of poetic beauty. "The Red Old Hills of Georgia" 
is the title of a pleasing lyric, seemingly written without 
any touch of creative fancy or attempt at ornament. To 
«very native Georgian there is magic in the appellation. 
His heart ever warms to the "Old Red Hills" as that of the 
Highlander of Old Scotland to the hills of purple heather, 
and he delights to remember old Georgia as invested with 
all the worth, beauty and glory with which the poet has 
described it. 

It may be said of this eminent Georgian that he was a 
Chevalier Bayard in the chivalry of his character, and an 
"Admirable" Crichton in the graces and accomplishments 
of his mind and person. Having occupied four different 
spheres of life in which human greatness is achieved, he is 
entitled to fourfold honor. The diversity of his pursuits 
perhaps impaired that incisive impression his magnificent 
talents would have made, and that reputation which he 
would have attained by distinguished excellence in any 
one department, yet his crown of honor will remain to 
him. 



WEEMS; OR "PETER HORRY." 

"The trophies of Miltiades will not suffer me to sleep," 
■said the young aspiring Themi stocks of ancient Athens to 
a friend. The renown of statesmanship and of military 
■exploits which that eminent Athenian in the quarter of 
century before achieved in the war of the Grecian States 
with Persia, inflamed his ambition and awakened him from 
the dreams and life of a voluptuary to which his taste led 
him and his wealth furnished the means of gratification. 
Old Rome placed in and around her capitol statues of her 
heroes, where they could at all times meet the eyes and 
recall their deeds and virtues to the mind of the living. 
'"These," says Sallust. the Latin historian, "were great in- 
(Centives to Roman youth to noble and worthy deeds." 



Weems ; OR "Peter Horry," 113 

"Whether their memories are handed down in history or per- 
petuated in the monument of brass, or in the marble statue, 
the lives of all great men prompt those of succeeding gen- 
erations to make their own sublime. 

The biography of the good and great, and the memorials 
of bronze or of marble erected to honor them, both have 
an influence to stimulate posterity to virtue and high 
achievements. The former of the two is the more efficient. 
It may be pleasant to look upon the statues of men whom 
their country has thus honored, but few are favored with 
this privilege. The thrilling narrative of biography that 
tells of the early life, the hardships endured, the obstacles 
overcome and the final triumph of courage and energy in 
the contest, will furnish more incitement to the mind than 
a hundred voiceless effigies though carved and molded intq 
rivalry of life. It may be delightful to visit the national 
art gallery at Washington, and inspiring to view the statues 
•of the illustrious and heroic men of the past sculptured in 
marble or portrayed on canvas, life-like and life-size, 
but how few of the hundreds of thousands of American 
youth can find the way and the means to make the trip. 

The biographer who records the life and actions of men 
who have distinguished themselves by their administrative 
cibility in the affairs of government or by their military 
prowess, confers a favor upon the youth of the land. There 
are thousands of such books now published. They can be 
had almost for the asking, yet how few read them. Among 
the biographies worthy of being placed in the hands of 
American youths are those written of Marion and Wash- 
ington, by Weems, the subject of this article. Each one 
was a patriot — each one was a military chief, renowned in 
his sphere — each one was honored for his deeds and virtues 
by the American people. Of earth-born heroes, none were 
more worthy than they. 

More extensive and ambitious volumes of their lives 
have been written, but none that possess more fascinating 
interest for the mind of youth. The style of Weems, or 
""Peter Horry," as called under his nom de plume, is bold 
and picturesque ! It thrills with the glow and freshness 
•of narrative like the Iliad. In the life of Marion how ani- 

8 si 



114 Southern Literature. 

mated is his description of the defense of Fort Moultrie^ 
when attacked by the British fleet on the 28th of June, 
1776. With what patriotic fervor does he describe the dar- 
ing feat of Jasper, who when the flag-staff was shattered 
and the flag on the fort fell on the outside, leaped through 
an entrance to the ground, picked up the flag and climbing* 
up amidst a shower of shot and shell, carried it to the 
top of the wall and fixed it firmly in ijts place. Then how 
triumphantly he tells that at the close of the conflict on that 
long summer's day, the men of the fort ran out "Long" 
Tom" and loaded it to give the Britishers a farewell shot, 
and having fired it, the ball entered through the port-hole 
of one of the vessels, passed through the cook-room, and 
after having killed and wounded seven men, pierced the 
opposite side of the ship and "sank with sullen joy to the 
bottom of the ocean." 

As related in the life of Marion, the incident of Ser- 
geant McDonald tricking the old Tory, the good friend of 
King George, out of his fine horse Selim, is graphically 
described and forms an amusing episode well remembered 
by every reader of the book. This noble patriot whom 
we have mentioned was a Scotchman by birth. He was 
one of Marion's gallant band. Brave as a lion, he met 
his tragic fate in the attack made by the British fleet on 
Fort Moultrie. As quoted from a "Fourth of July'' ora- 
tion delivered in 1840, and which the writer of this article 
has now before him in manuscript, "he was cleft down by 
a murderous ball and with his bowels gushing out, he cried 
out to his comrades, "Let not Liberty die with me." What 
a thrilling spectacle to awaken in the heart patriotic de- 
votion to country ! 

The patriotism of the men and women of those times- 
is strikingly displayed throughout the book. There is 
animation in the narrative and graphic description of war- 
like deeds and the sacrifice of all that is dear to mankind 
by the revolutionary sires in their contest for liberty and 
struggle for independence. "It is sweet to die for one's 
country," is the sentiment that inspired every heart, a& 
portrayed in speech and act. The dinner of roasted pota- 
toes served on pine-bark as a platter, given by Marion ta 



Wkkms ; OR "Peter Horry." 115 

the British officer, and its effect in causing him to retire 
from the British army is an incident recorded that has 
become a gem of American history. 

"The Life of Washington," written by him, embracing 
in its scope as it does, the main body of the events of the 
American Revokition in their connection and dependence, 
would necessarily be on grander scale, present a broa-der 
field of research and a more difficult task for the biogra- 
pher. It has not the charm of personal adventure and ex- 
ploit for the young mind that the life of Marion presents, 
but it portrays impressive scenes and records grand facts 
of history. The suffering of the soldiers at Valley Forge, 
the various battles fought, and the final triumph of the arms 
of the Colonies in the siege of Yorktown and the capture 
of Cornwallis and his army are duly touched upon. What 
a picture does the progress of Washington present on his 
journey to New York to enter upon the office of president, 
to which he had been elected by Congress. It was a con- 
tinual ovation. "Crowds of gayly-dressed people bearing 
baskets and garlands of flowers and hailing his appearance 
with shouts of joy met him at every village." 

The lives of Francis Marion and George Washington 
furnish in themselves sublime topics for the pen of the bi- 
ographer, but as written by Weems they derive peculiar 
interest from his personal knowledge of them, his glowing 
style and the time at which his books were published. 
Weems drew with bold strokes and colored with a florid 
brush. The republic formed of the sisterhood of States 
had just begun its career. There still lingered upon the 
horizon of spiritual vision the luster of the mighty intel- 
lects and of the glorious deeds of those who had founded 
it. The country was largely in a pioneer state. The virgin 
freshness and beauty of nature was still upon forest, lake 
and river. The customs and manners of the people were 
marked with simplicity. The arts of spinning and weaving 
were the domestic employments of the household. Thus 
Weems, as a biographer, delineated "the Past as it seemed 
in the eyes of men who were dubious of the Present and 
afraid of the Future — noble, stately, grand and inspiring, 
with the pulse of life beating to heroic measures."' 



Il6 SOUTHKRN LiTKRATURK. 

To the youtliful iniiul that niii^ht read those vohinics at 
the lime the writer did. there was ronuince in the very at- 
mosphere as eoinieeted with the Revolution. The actors in 
it as seen through the ha/.e of tradition or in the telescopic 
glance of history were exalted in the attributes of per- 
son and character. Then that day of July upon which the 
Declaration of Indeiiendence was declared was celebrated 
as the 'Tdorious Foin-th." With delight did the young eyes 
drink in the martial beauty oi the "Stars and Stripes." his 
country's flag and the railiaut symbol of her glory. How 
grand and glorious to his young fancy were the pomp and 
circumstance with which those festal days were observetl, 
that now gleam from the past like the sunset halos of sum- 
mer evening skies. These biographies are still published, 
and parents should place them in the hands of their sons 
if they want enkindled in their breasts the spark of patriot- 
ism from a vestal altar. 



WILLTAM GIOIORE SIMMS. 

It mav be said of American literature that it occupies 
no distinct or separate place in the realm of letters. It 
would necessarily occur from the nature and fundamen- 
tal relations of things that existed, that it should be an 
outgrowth of the literature of England as the mother coun- 
try, and would harmoniously coalesce with it. The Col- 
onies might sever the political bonds which bound them to 
the home of their ancestors, but they must still retain 
the mother language with all the culture and the treasures 
of learning and knowledge stored up in it as a priceless 
and inalienable heritage. This was no mean patrimony or 
inditTerent boon of fortune to the enfranchised colonies 
when they achieved their nationality as the United States 
of America, if the "rich harvests of poesy and wit" as 
garnered up in the royal English from the centuries of the 
past are fully considereil. 

It may naturally be presumed that American literature 
would present no especial characteristics save such modifi- 



Wirj.IAM GlI.MORR SiMMS. II7 

cations as would arise from climate, soil, and scenery, in 
their influences upon the development of the intellectual 
and social life of the people. The human mind in this land 
of political liberty having thrown off its last fetter, in 
its environment with the freshness, beauty and magnificence 
of a new world, would exult in the vigor of its freedom and 
activity and gather from the outspread volume of nature 
such thoughts and fancies and elements of description as 
would serve to embellish the literary creations it might pro- 
duce. This result has been fully exemplified by American 
writers in their works, as presenting greater vivacity of 
style and boldness of thought. 

The main contrast would appear in the range of topics. 
The border wars of the colonies with the Indians and the 
revolutionary struggle for independence, with all the open- 
ings they presented for personal adventures and daring 
deeds, and with an almost unbroken wilderness, with its 
beauty of mountain, lake and river, as the theater and 
background, would furnish to tlie imagination of the writer 
of romance charming elements of fiction. It is such a field 
for literary effort as was oi)ened to the author who is the 
subject of this article. It is said in biographical statement 
of him that "no American writer in his productions has 
drawn more largely from local and revolutionary history." 

This noted Southern author was born at Charleston, 
S. C, in 1806. He was a sickly child, and on account of his 
feeble health his early education was simple. At a very 
early age he evinced his talent for poetry in writing verses 
narrating the exploits of the American army in the war of 
1812. His is the same old story of genius developing 
amidst hardships and poverty. It was in the atmos])here 
of a drug store in the city of Charleston, S. C, where he 
was employed as a clerk, that his first songs blossomed 
forth. That his intellectual culture was limited to the edu- 
cation he received in childhood is not to be presumed. 
Like Pope, the English poet, he had pent up in a feeble 
body the energy of a mighty soul, and was unceasing in 
his pursuit of knowledge. He manifested in his writings 
that he had the divine spark of genius, but this was not 
his only intellectual resource or power. He in his love of 



ii8 Southern Literature. 

learning amassed large stores of knowledge, as his writings 
exhibit. As we read his productions we are led to regret 
that he did not receive in his youth the training and polish 
of mind and diction which the study of Latin and Greek 
always imparts. 

It is stated of him that after having served several years 
as an apprentice in the drug business, he quit that, studied 
law, and was admitted to the bar at twenty-two years of 
age. He became weary of this in one year, and abandoned 
it "to become editor and part proprietor in The Charleston 
City Gazette." Of the genii that are fabled to preside over 
and direct the destinies of men, the one that led to this 
change and choice of pursuit with him may be deemed 
propitious. It is true in the conduct of this paper he suf- 
fered financial loss from having espoused the cause of the 
Union during the nullification excitement in South Carolina 
in 1832, yet even with this discomfiture in business, it was 
fortunate for him to have chosen the peaceful pursuit of 
literature for his avocation in life. It led him out into the 
enchanted realm of mind ; opened to him in the exercise 
of his intellectual powers and the production of his pen 
a fountain of pure and exalted pleasure, whilst it secured 
to him for a time ease and competence and honorable men- 
tion among men, with the transmission of his name to pos- 
terity in the unfading glories of immortal thought. 

He was the most industrious and prolific of modern au- 
thors. His literary productions in prose and poetry were 
numerous, and had a wide popularity when published. His 
mind seemed to have the fabled fecundity of Amidas's gar- 
den, of which it is said as soon as one flower was plucked, 
another one bloomed in its place. The tendency of his 
literary taste was to poetry. He wrote and published sev- 
eral volumes of poems. He was a contributor to the South- 
ern Literary Messenger, published at Richmond, Va., in the 
"forties" by J. R. Thompson. The writer remembers read- 
ing sonnets which he, Mr. Simms, contributed to that mag- 
azine under the head of "Grouped Thoughts and Scattered 
Fancies." That he should have written some mediocre verse 
can hardly be otherwise than expected in the constant 
draught he made upon his intellectual resources. It is said 



Thomas M. Norwood. 119 

that Homer, the grand old Greek poet, sometimes nodded 
over his lyre. 

As a poet he will be best knoAvn to the world by his 
"Atlantis; A Story of the Sea." No doubt the theme and 
its subject-matter were suggested to him from his having 
lived from early childhood in daily view of the ocean, be- 
holding it spread out in dense expanse of blue to the hori- 
zon in the dim distance, watching the green rollers, in the 
ebbing and flowing of the tide, moving in and receding from 
the beach in majestic beauty, and having their lashings re- 
sounding constantly in his ear — and with the myth of the 
lost Atlantis coming into mind as it floated down upon the 
current of tradition from classic antiquity. The poem has 
passages of beauty and sweetness that charm the imagina- 
tive mind. 

It Avill be chiefly as a writer of prose romances that he 
will be known to posterity. "The Yemassee" is, perhaps, 
the most popular of his works of fiction. This is a story of 
the uprising of the tribe of Indians of that name during the 
colonial days of South Carolina and their attempt to destroy 
the settlers. It is full of thrilling adventures on the part of 
the leading actors. He also wrote a history and also a 
geography of South Carolina. Like all who hail from the 
Palmetto State, he had strong State pride. 

At present bis works, like those of other authors of the 
same period, are, in a measure, lost sight of in the tide of 
new and fresh publications that is flowing out from the 
press. Some of his productions have merit sufficient to se- 
cure to them a renascence in the coming cycles of time. 
As a man of letters, William Gilmore Simms will always 
be honored by the literary world and his name be spoken 
with reverence by the South. 



THOMAS M. NORWOOD. 



The history of the United States furnishes many in- 
stances and examples of men who arose in life from lowly 
poverty to a state of affluence and from social obscurity to 



I20 Southern Literature. 

the highest poHtical preferments in the gift of the nation_ 
The causes of this moral and social phenomena of Ameri- 
can society open a pleasant field of thought and inquiry tc 
speculative minds. One would assign it to the genius and', 
influence of free government and the inspiration which it 
gives to intellectual effort and social ambition in the be- 
stowment of equal political rights and honors. The grand: 
possibilities that come to every American citizen from the 
republican institutions of the land is a glorious and inspir- 
ing thought. He may be born in a cabin and come of hum- 
ble parentage, yet as soon as he opens his eyes upon the 
light of life, he may fix his mind upon that exalted seat of 
honor, the presidential chair, as the goal of his ambition. 

Another, under the fiat and condition of that time-hon- 
ored maxim which asserts that every man is the builder of 
his own character and fortune, would attribute the success- 
of those who rise to wealth and honor from poverty and 
obscurity to their push, tact and principle. This is illustra- 
ted not only under a republican form of government but 
even in a monarchy. 

There are those who would account for the success of 
the special list of America's great men alluded to by as- 
signing it to the circumstances that environed them, to the 
juncture of affairs, or to the time when they came to the- 
stage of human action. They would assume as mighty fac- 
tors in their rise to eminence, that during the early part of 
the century this country was in process of development,, 
and in view of its boundless natural resources no nation 
in all time has afforded such grand spheres for physical 
and intellectual activity and for the acquisition of wealth- 
and political distinction. Those who reason thus would 
diminish the just fame that clusters around the name and. 
memory of those men to whom their country has given high' 
mention and well-merited record on historic page. 

The life and political career of that honored son of the 
South, the Hon. Thomas M. Norwood of Georgia, the sub- 
ject of this article, affords a beautiful illustration of the 
benign and fostering influences of republican institutions in 
opening to the true and laudalile ambition of all its citizens 
alike the avenues to wealth and honor. It likewise exempli- 



Thomas M. Norwood. 121 

fies the force and power of that intellectual prescience or 
forecast that knows how to discern the "tide in the affairs 
of men which, taken at the flood," gives to men preemi- 
nence of rank in life. 

The writer had the privilege of knowing Mr. Norwood 
from early boyhood, had intimate association with him 
through youth to manhood, and with kindly eye and the 
fervent spirit of devoted friendship observed his progress 
and rise to eminence. It was at a camp-meeting in Upson 
county, Georgia, in 1842, that he first saw and met him. 
Fresh in memory is the picture of him as a boy of thirteen 
or fourteen summers, of less than medium height, curly- 
headed, freckled- faced- durst ful gray eyes, and dressed in 
suit of nankeen, with roundabout jacket and not the frock- 
coat, the "virilis toga" of the youth of to-day, and ap- 
parently as stifif and tough as an Irish laddie, carrying shil- 
lalah in hand and spoiling for a fight. It was not in the 
range of human possibility for one to conceive at that time 
that in the destinies of life he would come in the space of 
thirty years to occupy a seat in the United States Senate 
for six years and in the House of Representatives for four. 
With a full knowledge of the facts and events of Mr. Nor- 
wood's life, his brilliant career appears as marvelous as a 
dream. 

The moral tone and sentiments of the home sphere and 
the prevailing spirit and trend of social opinion and taste, 
as well as personal associations, have. a potential influence 
in giving shape and impress to the lives and characters of 
the young. If these are pure and good, morally elevating 
and socially refining, this is a fortunate boon to him who 
is thus blessed. It is the solemn and sacred duty of all par- 
ents to guard and protect their children's lives from the 
blight and contagion of social vices and vitiating compan- 
ionships. The current of their young lives should not be 
polluted by having poured into it the turbid stream of 
vice. 

In regard to Air. Norwood, the above factors that make 
human destiny were propitious to the shaping and devel- 
opment of a noble life. His parents were not in affluent 
circumstances, but they well knew the virtues of energy 



122 Southern Literature. 

and industry, and belonged to the substantial class of so- 
ciety. The father was of massive build, strong nitellect 
and invincible will ; the mother of quiet demeanor and pos- 
sessed of those matronly virtues that indue with sweet and 
tranquil sovereignty in the household ; and the family ties 
were bound together in a Gordian knot of love. 

The morals and manners of that period were consistent 
with the republican simplicity of the times. The more 
flagrant crimes rarely occurred, and a murder perpetrated 
would be a shock not only to the community, but to the 
entire State. The firesides of families were the nurseries 
of truth, honor and the habits of domestic economy. Indus- 
try and integrity of character weighed heavily in the so- 
cial scale. With the increase of wealth and population the 
manners and customs were beginning to change. The 
homespun suits and virtues were yielding to artificial style 
in dress and manners. The State University and denomi- 
national colleges recently established were opening their 
portals to the youth of 'the land, and parents who were 
ambitious for their sons to win professional fame and honor 
in life, seeking a higher literary training than the common 
school and academv afforded, were sending them to col- 
lege. It was at this crisis in the fall of 1847, Mr. Nor- 
wood entered as a student in Emory College. 

It was here the writer of this article renewed with him 
the boyhood acquaintance which has been mentioned. They 
were members of the same class, and were brought into in- 
timate association during the two and a half years that 
intervened from the time of matriculation to that of grad- 
uation. Then was formed that friendship that has remained 
ever tender and true through life to the present hour. The 
intervening years had not eft"aced the traits of boyhood, 
and as a youth he still retained the same propensities for 
fun and pranks, though curbed by the restraint which ma- 
turer years would induce. 

The school period forms an important epoch in the life 
of an individual, as it brings into application an array of po- 
tent agencies for molding the mind and shaping the char- 
acter. Such bearing and influence it is supposed to have, 
that the mental qualities and the scholarly proficiency shown 



Thomas M. Norwood. 123 

by a student at school or college are regarded as a sure 
prognostic of his future career and success, unless as in the 
case of a Sir Walter Scott or an Edison, where the In- 
vincibility of genius refutes in after years the charge of in- 
tellectual dullness as predicated of them by their teachers. 

In the case of Mr. Norwood, it was conceded that he had 
brilliant talents, but he did not devote himself with that 
assiduity to his studies so as to attain the high point of 
literary excellence of which he was capable. In the buoy- 
ancy of youth and the sparking glow of genius, he relished 
the charms of nnisic and song and social enjoyment more 
than the lonely vigil and the arduous toil of the student. 

The literary cotu'se of the student at college is to be 
highly appreciated by those who desire to scale the Par- 
nassian heights of learning and drink deeply from its Pie- 
rian fount. Lord Byron in his advice for the education 
of a youth, says that he should go betimes to college, and 
adds as his reason, that there he ''picked up his knowledge." 
The rich and full benetit of intellectual training and 
literary culture to a student in the curriculum of a college 
is dependent largely upon two conditions. One, and the 
first condition is, that he should be prepared for entering 
college by a thorough academic course. Otherwise the 
logic and symmetry of his education will be incomplete 
and its efficiency abridged. The other, and second condi- 
tion is, that he should have an invincible spirit of ambi- 
tion, or that insatiate love of learning that will prompt him 
to laborious days and nights and to all sacrifices of ease 
and pleasure which it may be necessary to make. 

It happened to ATr. Norw^ood, that, during the second year 
of his collegiate course, he formed the acquaintance and won 
the esteem of a l\lrs. G — , a lady of mature years, fine so- 
cial culture and literary taste. This incident had, no doubt, 
an important bearing upon his life and future career. As 
a token of her esteem, she presented him wdth a lot of 
choice books. Among them was the life and speeches of 
Burges, a New England statesman, who was noted in 
Congress for his eloquence. This book was a kind of tal- 
isman to awaken his youthful ambition, and, no doubt, in the 



124 SOUTIIKRN LlTKRATURK. 

l)n'i;lit creations with which fancy filknl the dream of fii- 
tnre i^reatness, he rest^lved in his niintl to go to Cong-ress. 

The years of collegiate life brielly sped anil the time 
of gradnation of the class came. It hail declined in num- 
ber from thirty-six in the year of sophomore register to 
twenty-live members. To some it was a long-wished-for 
period. They JKuUed for the scenes of active life, and 
longed to engage in the contest for wealth's golden prize 
or fame's gilded crest. CM hers in their love of learning- 
desired to linger mid the classic shades of Oxford and to 
cnjo}' the sweet companionship of the Muses of science and 
literature. In the dislrihulion of the honors v( graduation, 
the third was awarded to Mr. Norwood, and il was well 
merited. It is often the case, that fault is found with the 
decisions of the faculties of colleges in the hestowment of 
honors. They will be found, however, in the main to be 
right. It should he said that the honor awarded is not 
always the criterion of superior scholarship, as is often 
proved in alter years. 

The class was honored with a dining given them by Airs. 
Osborn Rogers, an excellent lady, who resided in the vil- 
lage. The banquet was all that choice viands and ex- 
([uisite cookerv could make it. It dwells dindy in memory, 
and all the scenes and incidents of that hour of eonvivirtl 
enjoyment. .V toast was given by each member at the 
close. The following one was from Air. Norwood: 

"The thanks of the elass for tliis feast, 
Te our liostess and lier fair nieces, 
"NVe'vo paid it our compliment tiie best. 
For we have picked it to pieces." 

In addition to the honor oi a dining the courtesy was 
shown to the class of a supper given by Mrs. Means, wife 
of Dr. Alexander Means, the I'ri^fcssor oi Xatiu-al Science. 
This, too, was a feast which could but please even the lux- 
lU'ious taste of a Sybarite. Toasts were given by the class. 
Mr. Norwood rose up and gave the following toast in 
rhvme : 



Thomas 1\I. Nouwood. 125 



TO KMOIIV COM.IUMO. 



" llcr iiHMiKir.v In US slill clirrisli ; 

'riioiij^li sIk' loses her ( looks Jind tier ( ii'i'Ciit'S, 
Y(M. slio will ('()iiliini(> to Moiirisli ; 
To siisliiiii licr sill" li!»s A. Mr.'iiis." 

Tlu- followiu.L; l)t':mlifiil loasl was i^ivcii by the laincnlcd 
Janu's Loiij^'stri'rl, iu'|)lu'\v (if Krv. A. I>. Longstreet, cx- 
IMcsidc'tit of I'.mory : 

'I'u Till.; H ION loll CI.AHH. 

" 'I'lii'v now I'onii one Itrilliiiil comsIcIImI ion of minds, 

l']ii('li of wliicli m.'iy lime willi ils l('l('S(',o|ti(' power cesolve 
Inio ;i s(;ir of llie iirsl in.'i^fni I iide." 

Ill", like MaiH-c'llus. iu'|)lu-vv of Aiij;tisltis C.x'sar, cclcbra- 
(c'd by Vir.L;!] in Ibc .luicid. dif(l eaiK- in bis career as a 
lawyer, wbilst boiior, wilb in\'isiblr band, was weavini;- for 
liis brow Ibe wrcalb of fame. 

b'acb oni' wciil f(»rlb iipmi bfc's arena and en^aocd in bis 
•cbosen ptnsnil. bOrly-seven \i'ars bave ebapsed since Ibe 
•eventful ])eri(id of j^radnalion. Tbe several destinies and 
fates of tbe members of tbe class ari' not known in Ibeir 
]")articidars to tbe writer of_lbis ailiele. At Ibe comnience- 
nienl exercises of b'mory ColK'i^c in |nl\', iS()f), wben tbe 
alumni of tbe class were calU'd foiib upon Ibe stage, Rev. 
W. V. Cook, D.J)., of tbe Norlli ( icdr-ia Conference, M. E. 
■Cburcli. Soutb, steppc(l ont as Ibe onh' reiiresentative pre.s- 
•ent. lie writes tbal be knew of bnl Iwo idbers surviving, 
tlic lion. T. M. Norwood and Ibc writer of Ibis article. 
Tbe weary wbeel.s of life witb tbem will soon cease to 
move. 

Tbe legal profession lias ever been Ibe brilliant road to 
social f)Osition and jjolitical prefermenl. 1 1 is clearly slujwn 
in tbe bistory of all civilized nations Ibat lawyers, or tbose 
will) are versed in tbe law, are tbe ones tbat are generally 
considered by tbe pco|)le as tbe most eligible for legislators, 
to carry tbe seals of tbe State, and as cbief executive to 
]>reside over tbe destinies of tbe nations. Tbe power .and 
inlluence of lawyers ])revail to tbat extent in social life and 
-over public opinion tbat ev<'n in military tactics tbey are 
supposed to possess talent superior to tbose of otber pur- 



126 Southern Literature. 

suits and avocations, as was shown during the Civil war 
by companies in the selection of their officers. 

To be a lawyer is to be on the way of promotion, may 
be construed as a safe social maxim. The path to the 
shrine of Honor is more often found through the temple 
of Themis. This was particularly the case at this time. 
There was then a proud array of legal intellect that occu- 
pied the bar throughout Georgia, composed equally and 
alike of that class who by their individual efforts had ac- 
quired their knowledge of the law frop the text-books and 
in the practice of the courts, as well as of the ones that 
had been favored with the manipulation and the antecedent 
training of the law school of that period. How grand and 
glorious was the list of them may be seen by a mere men- 
tion of their names. There was Absalom H. Chappell, 
Washington A, Poe, John J- Floyd, \\'alter T. Colquitt, 
Herschel V. Johnson and a host of others whose names 
and lives proudly appear upon Georgia's escutcheon and 
her arch of Glory. 

To be a lawyer thou meant something in the way of 
legal lore. It implied a knowledge of the principles of 
law in their broad scope and application, and not as is of- 
ten the case now, a scanty information of four or five books 
and applicable only to the case in hand. The law is a noble 
science and honorable as a profession. It may take a law- 
yer with due diligence and effort ten years to establish 
himself in his j^-ofession, but then when he has done so, 
it is permanent. It is with him as with the wise man spoken 
of in the Scriptures, who built his house upon a rock. He 
has a sure foundation and his edifice will stand. 

The law as his avocation in life was the ambition and 
purpose of Mr. Norwood in his boyhood, and he entered 
upon the study of it early after his graduation in 1850, 
with Claudius J. Wilson as his associate. He read law at 
Culloden, Ga., under James M. Smith, who afterwards be- 
came governor of Georgia. What a charming episode in 
the life of the writer of this article was the fall they read 
law, as being in charge of the school at Culloden. he was 
brought in daily social and intellectual association with 



Thomas M. Norwood, 127 

tlu'iii, l)(.'iiii;- a vich afUTinatli of pleasure in llic rciu-vval ol 
Llu'ir c-dinpaiiionshi]) and tlic dclij^hts of collcj^'c days. 

Having- coiiipleU'd the course of readinjj," as preparatory 
to the practice of hivv, Air. Norwood, with Mr. WilsMu as 
his associate, went to .Savannah, (la., and opened a law 
office, 'idiey had stout liearls and brave spirits, tlius in the 
fresh flower of manhood and neophytes in the hiw, to f.jo 
to a city Hke Savannah to enter a forensic field where they 
woiild have to cope with the profound legal talent and the 
hi'illiant oratory of such men as Judg'c Lawton and Henry 
M. Law. They went in 1851, and no doubt in their legal 
career experienced the varying fortunes of youthful soli- 
citors of the bar. In 1861 they had begun to rise at the 
bar and acf|uire reputation for fine legal ability. The civil 
war, which arose and arrested in a measmx' tln' ])rogress 
and j)r()sperily of all peaceful ])urstnts at the South, closed 
up their joint career in the practice, as Mr. Wilson en- 
tered the Confederate service and died in the army. 

The faculty of atubition in man and the power to become 
great or distinguished in the eyes of his fellow-men afiford 
striking evidence of the divine clement of his nature. It 
shows him akin to Deity. 1"he old Latin poet Horace, in 
speaking of the honor of the victory in the ancient chariot 
race, beautifully says, the goal skillfully avoided by the 
glowing wheels and the ennobling palm elevate the lords of 
the earth to the gods. It is an old adage that has come 
down amid the traditions of the past, that Irue greatness or 
meritorious distinction is not the result of chance or acci- 
dent. It stands forcibly demonstrated in the history of the 
fame-crowned heroes, that toil, effort, sacrifice, ])hysical or 
mental power, gave them their suj)remacy among men. It 
is not as the old poet represented it, that ]"\)rtune, in the 
caprice of her power in human affairs, from the head of 
this one, with a sharp, rushing sound of her pinions, bears 
away the tiara in iiui)etuous flight; and on the head f)f that 
one delights to have placerl it. 

These reflections and deductions, drawn from the scenes 
and vicissitudes in the fortunes of men as presented in the 
shifting ])anorama of real life, find a fit illustration in Mr. 
Norwood's public career. As stated, he and his law part- 



128 Southern Literature. 

iier, C. C. \\'ilson had begun to rise in their profession when 
.the civil war opened. 

In the winter of i86o-6r, j\Ir. Norwood raised a company 
to go into the Confederate service. Tybee Island was 
■threatened by the L'nion or Northern forces in the spring 
•of 1861, and General Lawton then in command there, called 
for volunteers — /. c, companies not then enlisted. Mr. 
Norwood called his company together, read the call, sub- 
mitted the question to them, and they refused by a major- 
ity to go to Tybee. Thereupon he refused to command 
them as captain, and threw up his commission. 

In 1861-62 he was a member of the legislature of Geor- 
gia as representative from Chatham county. Without be- 
ing asked he was elected to this position by the spontaneous 
voice and will of the people. The antique and sequestered 
town of Milledgeville was then the capital of the State. 
Mr. Norwood's first experience as a legislator was marked 
iDy a political incident of almost dramatic character in the 
.legistative proceedings. The chief executive of the State, 
Governor Joseph E. Brown, was not in harmony with Jef- 
ferson Davis, president of the infant republic of the Con- 
federacy, and sought to use his official power to obstruct his 
administration. Some of the leading men of the State were 
in sympathy with him. Governor Brown sent in to the legis- 
lature his celebrated anti-conscription message. It was 
championed by the Hon. Linton Stephens, a member of the 
House, who made a magnificent speech in support of it, 
which demoralized the supporters of President Davis. 

The House adjourned when Air. Stephens closed his 
speech. Within a half-hour a committee of members, 
lieaded by O. L. Smith, ex-Professor of Latin, Emory Col- 
lege, and who was a member of the House, waited on Mr. 
Norwood, and requested him to reply to Mr. Stephens. 
This he reluctantly consented to do. The next morning 
the House was packed. The Supreme Court adjourned or 
rather took recess, and the judges occupied seats in the 
legislature. Mr. Norwood replied to Mr. Stephens in a 
speech of two hours or more in length. The opponents of 
Governor Brown's message were entirely satisfied ; the 
judges of the Supreme Court said that his argument on the 



Thomas M, Norwood. li^ 

law and the Constitution was a complete answer to Mr. 
.'Stephens. The message was overwhehningly voted down, 
— i. c, the resolution of Mr. Stephens to indorse the mes- 
sage was defeated by a large majority. 

This was Mr. Norwood's first effort in a legislative body. 
Eut there is not a record of a word that he spoke. There 
were no stenographers present to take down his speech, and 
it lives only in the memory of the members of the legisla- 
ture now alive who heard it. 

Though the incident related has no place on historic 
page, and his speech, like that of Patrick Henry before 
the Continental Congress of '76 in behalf of the Declaration 
•of Independence, lives only in tradition, yet not less great 
should be his triumph of the hour and the honor given. 
With patriotic and heroic emotion he can recall in thought 
that in the first stage of its existence he shielded the young 
republic of the Confederacy, the brilliant but vain dream of a 
gallant people for a separate and distinct government, from 
the deadly thrust of political spleen and ambition, and meni- 
•ory with him in true devotion may wreathe the tomb of 
Dixie's withered hopes with garlands of love and honor. . 

His patriotism has that high and delicate sense of honor 
that prompted him boldly to protest against the incivility 
to the South on the part of the committee in inviting to 
the Dewey banquet at Savannah General Miles, who had 
■wantonly put in irons Jefiferson Davis, the South's martyr 
president, whilst in ]->rison at Fortress Monroe. 

In February, 1862, when Fort Donelson was captured, 
Mr. Norwood volunteered as a private soldier in the Chat- 
ham artillery, joined in March, took a cold the first night, 
which settled in his right eye. and it became inflamed from 
•standing guard in the cold nights and drilling in clouds of 
dust by day. The surgeon of the company sent him home to 
be treated by his physician. The left eye became involved, 
photophobia ensued, and in brief, he was disabled for five 
and a half years, so that he could not use his sight in read- 
ing or writing. 

As a class there were none more gallant and patriotic 
than were the legal fraternity throughout the entire South, 
in responding to the call of their country to the tented field. 

9 f^ 1 



130 Southern Literature. 

They sought to serve their country in a military, rather 
than in a civic capacity. They resigned their places of ease 
and official preferment to encounter the hardships of the 
soldier's life and the perils of battle. They esteemed the 
post of danger as the post of honor. Their patriotism was. 
not a poetic dream that fills the mind, or a mere sentiment 
that plays idly upon the lips in the piping times of peace, 
but it found its full expression in that sentiment cherished 
in the patriotic speech and hearts of all lands. '"Tis sweet 
to die for one's country." They went forth from homes of 
beauty and ease and happiness to meet the carnage of battle 
with light cheer, as if summoned as guests to a marriage 
feast. By their example and by their potent influence as a 
class they fired the masses of the people with zeal, and by 
their chivalry upon the field of battle often during the war 
turned the tide of defeat into victory. To mention T. R. 
Cobb of Georgia, who was eminent for his legal attain- 
ments, honored for his civic virtues, and lamented for his- 
untimely death, is only to enumerate one of a thousand 
like gallant spirits who laid their lives in costly sacrifice 
upon the altars of their beloved .South. 

The capture of Savannah by Ciencral Sherman was one 
of the closing events of the war. It signalized an entire re- 
versal of the hopes of the South. The civil war having 
closed and peace having resumed her easy sway over the 
land, Mr. Norwood returned to the profession of law and 
obtained a lucrative practice. 

Thus came to jiini. at last, the reward for the ten long 
years of his patient waiting and toil in the practice of law 
up to the date of the war, and compensation for that syn- 
cope in life's golden period and prospects in the four years 
that then followed and which were to the people of the 
South an utter waste of time as to peaceful pursuits. The 
state of affluence in which he was placed by this favorable 
turn of aflfairs enabled him to devote his attention to poli- 
tical matters and to indulge the ambitious hopes which he 
had cherished through life. 

The crisis and period at which Mr. Norwood appeared 
upon the political arena were eventful in the history of 
Georgia and likewise afterwards successively of the other 



Thomas M. Norwood. 131 

Southern States that had seceded. It was the juncture at 
wliicli was sounded the death-knell of the infamous tyr- 
anny which the people had experienced at the hands of the 
Federal Government for four years and the pillage of the 
revenues of the State by a body of alien officials who had 
been put in power under the Reconstruction Measures 
passed by Congress. It was the second year of the admin- 
istration of Rufus W. Bullock as Republican governor of 
Georgia under ''car])etbag" rule. 

The people despairing of receiving justice at the hands 
of Congress and of framing any State constitution that 
would 1)e acceptable to that body in its action and de- 
mands upon the South, had with patriotic indignation and 
manly disgust thrown down the reins of government. In- 
stead of yielding to despair and the situation of things, with 
heroic courage and burning speech Mr. Norwood in public 
addresses sought to arouse them to rise up in their maj- 
esty as freemen and to throw off their ignominious politi- 
cal subjection. When the legislature of that year con- 
vened LUillock had lied and left the office of governor va- 
cant. James M. Smith, representative from Muscogee 
county, was chosen by the legislature to fill the unexpired 
term of Bullock. 

Before that body Mr; Norwood came as candidate for 
the United States Senate and was elected to that position 
for the long term of six years. The honor thus conferred 
upon him, though high and distinguished, may be regarded 
as a just tribute and recompense to him for the inappreci- 
able service he had rendered to the people and State in his 
lx)ld crusade against carpetbagism and his letters signed 
"Nemesis." In view of the facts of his previous history, as 
have been recited, his success in life may seem marvelous, 
but such a career lies open to every American youth. He 
had no b\)rtunatus cap which, by putting on his head, at his 
bidding would bring him wealtli and honor, but it was the 
toil of that grand magician and controller of human des- 
tiny, an energetic and well-trained intellect, that achieved 
for him his splendid fortune. It may be that in the pres- 
ent age when there is greater competition and a wider dif- 
fusion of talent and cultured mind, the chances for fame 



1^2 SOUTHI'.KN LrrURA'lHiRl;. 

;nul forliuic liavc Ikvii diininislKnl ; nevertheless, it wouUl 
lie well for Aiiierioaii parents \o instil in the hearts of their 
sons a hij;h and laudable anihilion. althoui^h they may not 
obtain the emohunents o\ oltiee ami the brilliant trojibies 
of civic honor. 

b'.nterint;" (.'oni^'ress as a nieniber ol the Senate, wliieli 
in the past as a lei;'islati\e braneh i^i i;o\ernnient was ehar- 
aeteri/rd and renowui'd as haviui; as august ai\d as abU' a 
boily {A men as ever sat in the eouneil hall ol a j;ieat na- 
tion, antl with the settlement of many points eonneeted 
with tho restoratiiMi oi the Southern Stales to their formrr 
status in the Union pending before it. well nii^ht the in- 
<|nir\ be made, what will be ^\o in this new ami mUried 
sphere and under the L^loweriui; Urnks ol hostile eyes? 
'rhoni;h no list oi parlienlars may be j^iven ol the beariui^" 
and ability of Mr. Norwood, yet that it was fully commen- 
surate with the diiiihty of (leor^ia and the responsibilities 
of his hiiih position, may be inferred from the speech on 
tlu- ri\il Kii^hts r.ill. which he made (Mi the floor oi the 
Senate chambei- in \indication and defense oi the South, 
and which extorted tlu> pi'aisi^ and approbation ol Iocs. 

In scaimini; the starr\' hosts id' hcaviMi al nii;ht the eye 
will obser\i' with what nnifoinul\ ol si/e and luster the\' 
shine forth from their cerulean dei^ths. I'ut few of them 
liave distinctive mai;iuticence like Jupiter with bis belts, 
as he shines forth in radiant beauty from the i^ates of morn 
ov of e\e : or like the comet, relm-nin<;' from its travel 
of centuries throuj^h sj'ace with its fiery train o\ llamcs in 
awful i;raudenr athwart the midnii^bt skv. 

Thus in the political linnamcnt ol a natiini, whilst in its 
s;ala\y oi i;i"eat men there ma\ be man\ who are shiniui^- 
lights and o\ useful talent, \ct but few become ensphered 
as j^reat intellectual (M'bs to shine to after ai^es with fame 
and i^lorv that will never set. There are those who seem to 
ha\e been born for a crisis and an event, and their actii>n 
uniler the jimclure id' alTairs skives them ilistinetive renown, 
and the character oi the Accd im]>erishability of i"ame. 

Tliis was exhibitetl in the case of ratrick llenry in bis 
speech f(M- libertv before the House of Rnrqesses of \ ir- 
uiina; id" Thomas lelTerson in writiui;- the Oeclaration of 



Thomas M. Norwood. 13.3 

Indi'prniKiKH', and of John /Xdaius in Ins spcccli before- the 
( "onlinc-nlal ( oni^ri'ss, nr_i;in}; llu- adi)))tii)ii ol' llial inslni- 
nicnt ; and further on in America's histm-y, of llenry Clay 
in the Missouri Coni'iJroinise hill and liis s])eeeh in support 
of that measure. (Ireat fame has hut few heirs. 

iiavinj;- served his senatorial period, Mr. Norwood was 
I'leiii^I to the Mouse of Keprest'ulat ives for two successive 
terms. It was din"iii^' this period of his congressional life 
that he made his most iioled oiatoric.il eilOrl and display of 
his intellectual ahilily, as reported lo the writer by the lion. 
'J'homas R. McC'rae, nieniher of ( oni^ress from the conjj;'res- 
sional district, /Xrkansas, in reply lo a one-armed Union 
soldier ruul a KepuMic.'in nieniher ol ( Oni^i'i'ss, who, in con- 
f^'ressional parlam-e, had in a speech "severelv ra'ltled the 
])cmocralic ])arly." The heinoeraiic niemheis were sore 
over it and wi-ix' wanting' s(iiiie one to reply lo him. hi 
a day or two it was nunored that the new nieniher from 
Georgia would make a reply to ( ien. I)aviil I'.. Ilendei-sou. 
Intense interest was awakened. 'I'lie hour i-ame. The hall 
was crowded with spectators. In walki-d Mr. Nfirwood, 
(he new memher from (leorj^ia, with his bundle of papers. 

I'Vom want of comieous hearing' or for the pm|)osi' of 
l)rowbeatin^ him, ( ieneial I leiidersou look a chair and 
placed himself a few feet in fionl of Mr. Norwood and 
looked him in the face. Mr. .Xorwood .arose and spola-, and 
as a se([uel to the story Mr. McC'rae said that the speech 
he made was a triumphant retaliation and attended by cheers 
of victory for the l)emocratic ])arty. 

Tn re.Ljard to this s])ei'ch, Mr. Norwood, in spe.akiufj;' of 
it to the writer, said "that as an oratorical effort it was 
a bagatelle, a mere trilh'. Th.at (ieneial I leiiderson had 
wantonly indid^cd in a diatribe or vehement invective 
against the South, .and the only elTective w.'iy to mi-et it 
was by satire, l)m"les(|Ue or i-idieule." The spirit of satire, 
or to use ,'i more comprehensive term, the exercise of 7vit, 
is a marked feature with Mr. Norwood, both in his oratory 
.and his writinj^^s. It seems to be with him a nalm.al tr.'iit 
of mind, as with John Krmdolph of Virginia, the m.aster 
of political invective, noted in the early ann.als of ('on- 



134 



Southern Literature. 



grcss. It emanates not from a Mephistophelian or malig- 
nant disposition, but is blended with humor and partak'es 
more of the spirit of ridicule than reprobation. He seems 
to indulge in it from mere fun. 

The faculty of wit, satire, burlesque, or ridicule, single 
or blended, is a potent weapon from the armory of speech. 
Cervantes, as lord of the master-spell of irony, laughed 
away the rhivalry of Spain. Butler, in "Hudibras," sati- 
rized the social, political and religious vagaries of the days 
of Cromwell and Puritanism of England. Pope and other 
English poets plied the keen arrows of wit upon the follies 
and vices of their times. Mr. Norwood, in his first speech 
on "The Civil Rights Bill," in the Senate of the United 
States, used effectively this rhetorical weapon. He elicited 
attention to the construction of the constitutional amend- 
ment bearing upon the subject. 

He entered the ])olitical arena with this weapon in his 
hands. This action on his part may have been called forth 
by the crisis and character of the times, it being the period 
of "Car]-)etbag Rule" in the South. It played an important 
part with him in the political campaign in his race for gov- 
ernor. He was fearless in the use of it. He always struck 
the shield of his opponents in debate with the sharp end of 
his lance. r>efore it they quailed and fled. Though this 
campaign was a memorable episode in Mr. Norwood's polit- 
ical career, yet at this remote day we may not uplift the 
curtain from it. It would be to tell of the causes, the er- 
rors, the operations, the political confederacies of the lead- 
ers and the game that Eortune played. As such, as the 
Latin poet Horace, in an ode, said to Asinius PoUio. who 
was writing a history of the civil war of Caesar and Pom- 
pey: 

" Periculosiip plenum opns alse, 
Tractas, et incedis per ignes 
Siippositos cineri dolosi." 

It is "an undertaking full of danger and hazard and 
vou walk upon fires placed beneath deceitful ashes." Many 
of the actors have passed from the stage of time, and many 
of them are on the list of Georgia's noble names. We 



Thomas M. Norwood. 135 

•sliouUl cherish the memory of their virtues and let oblivion 
•enshroud their faults. "Nihil de mortuis nisi bonum est." 

A seat in Congress is the shining goal of political aspi- 
ration. In a few years after their congressional terms have 
exiured, the intellectual prowess and oratorical display upon 
which its incumbents have relied for the transmission of their 
name and memory to i)osterity will be forgotten, or lie en- 
tombed in literary crypt in the dust-covered folios of Con- 
•gressional Records. 

It was once a proud exclamation of an American citizen 
■to say, "I am a Congressman." It Js still a high and hon- 
orable position, though in these degenerate times unwor- 
thy occupants now and then creep in who prostitute the 
<lignity of the office. It still opens a field for the exercise 
of patriotic virtue and of brilliant intellect. Mr. Norwood 
retired from Congress with a spotless record and full share 
•of legislative honor. 

The retirement of Mr. Norwood from the arena of active 
political life was not to ease or the enjoyment of the af- 
fluence acquired during his terms of service in Congress, as 
with many of their thousands. He received the appoint- 
ment oi judge of the city court of Savannah, a lucrative 
and highly honorable office. In this position he will prob- 
ably close his career of active life-work, and the consum- 
mation of a life that has been busy, laborious, honored and 
successfid. The grand factors to which he owes his well- 
rounded and useful life are push, tact and principle. 

y"^ midst his duties as a legislator, Mr. Norwood found 
t'me and leisure to devote to literary pursuits and to enter 
the field of authorship. He comes before the ])ublic as the 
writer of a botjk of fiction and thus has made his claim two- 
fold to a hold and heritage upon distant time. The political 
honor and promotion which he received at the hands of the 
people of Georgia was not in recognition and as a reward 
of !.is literary attainments and genius. There are but few 
men in public life who may strictly be called literary states- 
men, men of renown in letters or science who have aspired 
to ])olitical influence and received official i)referment. A 
survey of the governmenis of Tun-ope in this respect will 
show Carducci and Verdi in Italy ; Canovas, Castelar, Gal- 



136 Southern Literature. 

dos and Martos in Spain ; seven writers of more or less, 
prominence in the German Reichstag^, Professor Virchow 
being- the most distinguished; Morley, Lecky, Bryce and 
Balfour in the English Parliament. If the United States 
is taken in the sweep of the survey, but few names of lit- 
erary distinction will appear on the files of Congress. So- 
rare are they, that when a Congressman appears in the role 
of an author it is made a subject of special notice by the 
press. 

It was as an amateur that Mr. Norwood entered the field 
of literature. The production of his pen is more the fruit 
and result of intellectual culture than the irrepressible out- 
burst of genius that burns to give expression to the grand 
and glowing creations that fill the mind and the pathos, 
feeling and sentiment that thrill the heart. The history of 
genius in literature and art shows that it is a strange and 
hardy ])lant. It demands not the ease and leisure of wealth 
and place for its development. Like the cedar that grows, 
in verdurous beauty in the scanty soil and clefts of granite 
cliffs, or as the delicate floweret that in miracle of Alpine- 
scenery, blooms on the ice-Iiound border of the glacier, sO' 
genius thrives in the l)osom of dailv toil and the hardships 
of life. 

Tli^ book which Mr. Norwood has presented to the- 
American reading public, and especially to the South, is- 
titled "Plutocracy, or White Slavery at the North." It is 
a politico-social novel, and was designed in its scope and 
purpose to be a rei:)ly and in retaliation for the harsh crit- 
icisms of the Northern press upon the South in its display 
of the evils of African or negro slavery as it had existed,, 
by an exhibition of the wrongs and oppression perpetra- 
ted upon the laboring classes at the North. It is a partizan 
or sectional work, and theretore nnist necessarily fail to 
touch the broad heart of humanity as did "Uncle Tom's- 
Cabin" by the genius of its author. 

It is scholarly written and is cml^ellished with the wit, 
learning and himior of the author. It is fully stamped with 
the idiosyncrasies of his mind and character. There are two- 
scenes or chapters in it which are portrayed or written with 
peatliar force and power. They are diametrically opposite 



Thomas M. Nokwood. 137 

in their point and character. The one is a picture of the 
Black Friday in 1870, so well remembered in the financial 
history of this country as the jT^old panic, when thousands 
were cast down from a state of affluence and made beggars 
in a day. 

The other is a description of a "Diamond Party" in the 
city of New York, composed of millionaires who had be- 
come rich from furnishing supplies to the government dur- 
ing the Civil war, and flieir wives and daughters. It por- 
trays with admiral)le humor the coarse manners and illit- 
erate conversation of those who had thus sprung from 
plebeian condition into wealth, and presents these character- 
istics in satiric contrast to their assumed social superiority 
and ])ompous display of dress. The scope of these essays 
does not allow an extended review and analysis of the 
merits of the book. 

Mr. Norwood, since writing "Plutocracy," has found 
time amidst the duties of his office to write a satire titled 
"Patriotism, Democracy or Empire?" Its range and scope 
of time and topics are broad and varied. It holds up to 
reprobation the follies, vices, crimes of society of the past 
century and of the present day, and more especially the 
political corruption that exists and the departure of the 
rulers of the land from the great cardinal principles of the 
United States as a republic in its past history. Pie cour- 
ageously points out and denounces these things with the 
caustic force of old Roman Juvenal. So numerous and gi- 
gantic are the vices of the age that the heaviest bolts of 
satire seem to be in vain, and will no more penetrate the 
brazen effrontery of the day than the swords of y!ineas's 
companions the foul bodies of the harpies as told in Virgil's 
epic story. The author, Mr. Norwood, indulges his poetic 
fancy and would wreathe with flowers the javelins of reproof 
which he hurls at men and things with unsparing force. 

The latest work from Mr. Norwood's pen is "Mother 
Goose Carved by a Commentator." The task which he 
undertakes in this field of literature was adapted to his 
peculiar taste and genius. He uplifts these nursery rhymes 
from the sphere of amusing stories to please children, tO' 
vehicles of instruction and the philosophy of life for ma- 



138 Miss Pknina Moisk. 

turer minds. He has not despoiled them of their original 
charm and force hy his comments. The book he has writ- 
ten ought to go down to posterity hand in hand with "The 
Melodies" for the instruction and delight of the young and 
old of coming generations. Mr. Norwood may justly be 
assigned a high rank aiuong the satiric antl humorous wri- 
ters of the nineteenth century and first and foremost place 
in Southern literature. 

"I'lutocracy" has not met with tliat favor nor had that 
circulation at the South that its merits justly demand. It did 
not touch the great jiopular heart at its issue. The day may 
<-ome when it will rise from its present obscurity and be 
lifted inti) jiopular notice and form a pleasing and ])erma- 
iient memorial of the genius of Mr. Norwood to the gen- 
erations to come. Every Southerner should purchase and 
reail "Tlutocracv, or White Slaverv at the North." 



MISS PENINA MOISE. 

The literature of antiquity shows but few names of 
the female sex on its record, and but few contributions to 
its stores fi-om their pens. In the r.ible, the inspired vol- 
ume of Hebrew literature, there appear in the Old Testa- 
ment Scriptures but two literary productions from female 
minds ; one is the song of Deborah upon the overthrow and 
destruction of Sisera and his army by the Israelites under 
the leadership of P>arak ; the other is the prayer of Hannah 
in thanksgiving unto God for the gift to her of Sanuiel. 
her son. They are sublime and elociuent, Init these quali- 
ties ma\- be attributed to the divine inspiration that rested 
tipon the speakers at the time of utterance. In the New 
Testament Scriptures there are likewise recorded two lit- 
erary compositions from feminine minds: the one is the 
(mIc of praise to Goil by Fdizabeth, the mother of John the 
Haptist, upon the visit of Mary, the mother of Jesus, to 
her ; the other is that of the Virgin in a hymn of adora- 
tion and thanksgiving imto God for the supreme honor of 
beiui?- made the mother of the world's Redeemer. Thev 



Miss Penina Moise. 139 

Avere filled with the Holy Ghost, and each sacred rha])sody 
may appropriately he called '"The Mat^nificat." 

The records of the literature of ancient Greece still fur- 
ther show the paucity of the productions of the female mind 
in the world of letters. Greece has been always esteemed 
the nurse of arts, the land of song. Nature has lavished 
there its charms and enriched it with variety of scenery in 
the winding vale, the sloping hill, the mountain with its ver- 
dure, or snow-crowned, the lake, the sea and sunny shore, 
all spanned by the blue sky of the old /l^^gean, which, with 
its em])urpling light, invests all objects with ethereal beauty 
and repose, that awaken the soul to poetic rapture. It 
produced Homer with his Iliad; y'Eschylus with his Pro- 
metheus Unbound; Euripides with his Alcestis; and others, 
who, in different walks of literature, wrote and sung in the 
■divine Hellenic tongue with the full inspiration of the fa- 
bled Muses of JMeria. Yet, Greek literature presents only 
the name of Sap])ho, the "burning Sappho" as Byron calls 
her, a lyric poetess. Addison, the elegant author of the 
Spectator, says that "among the mutilated poets of antiq- 
uity, there are none whose fragments are more beautiful 
than those of Sappho." Her poetry is fragrant with the 
sweetest incense of the Grecian muse. 

Ancient Rome presents not a single female name in its 
■catalogue of authors ; nor does the mediaeval age, nor the 
period of ancient Rnglish. This anomaly of the position 
of woman in literature may be explained in various ways. 
It is easily solved in the fact that for ages past she has been 
made the "household drudge" ; considered man's inferior 
and denied the culture of her minrl. She has been allowed 
no time, nor had she any inclination to wander in the Rly- 
sian gardens of thought to ])luck the flowers and weave 
them into garlands. Moreover, she is in herself a sweet 
volume of poetry and romance, and her bounden dutv is to 
give to the world copies of herself as a mother in the merry 
little elves that cling around her knees. 

The subject of this article. Miss I'enina Moise, to a 
sketch of whom so long a ])refacc has been made, was a 
resident of Charleston, South Carolina. She appeared as 
an author of a book of i)oems about the close of the first 



i4o Southern Literature. 

quarter of the present century (1825). She is, perhaps^ 
not known now to the readuig world, and her poems have 
not been read by any one now living save the writer. It 
was read by him in early boyhood. It was in the library 
of a relative of his to whom the book of poems had been 
presented by the brother of the author. 

The book was a small, thin volume. The pieces of poetry- 
it contained were short. As to their literary merit the wri- 
ter was too young to form any just opinion of them. He 
read them with the same boyish carelessness that he would 
pluck a wayside flower, inhale its fragrance, admire its 
beauty and then cast it away. Around the "Palmetto 
State," and Charleston, her grand old city once in time,. 
have ever in the mind of the writer hung the charms of 
romance. This incident of reading the book of poems by 
Miss IMoise awakened it, and in gratitude for the pleasure 
afforded he would rescue her name from oblivion and place 
this tribute to her memory. 



MRS. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ. 

The record which the writer has given of the lives and 
character of eminent men of the South in these biographical 
essays has been to him a pleasing task. He has confined 
his selection to those with whom he was entirely or in a 
measure contemporary, and of whom he had some personal 
knowledge in the way of facts and incidents in their lives^ 
which he conceived would be matters of interest to the pub- 
lic. He has not exhausted the list of those sons of the 
South who are worthy of the notice of the historic pen and 
the tributes of the press. No, they are many ; and to enum- 
erate them all would be like counting the stars that adorn 
the azure depths of its nocturnal skies. 

There are a few readers to whom the "trifling grace" 
and information of these essays may aflrord "the perfmne 
and suppliance of a moment." With this encouragement 
of his literary toil and pursuit the writer with the opening: 
of the New Year feels prompted to renewed diligence in 



Mrs. Caroline Lrk Hentz. 141 

liis task of paying honor to those sons and daughters of 
the South to whom honor is due. 

Hitherto the selection and trihute of the pen have hcen 
to the "Sons" only; now. for a time, it will he directed to 
the "Daughters" of the South. I'Yom the very nature and 
constitution of things, man, as com])ared with woman, must 
necessarily figure prominently in the world's eye. As he 
is crowned with sovereignty, the sphere of man's action 
lies in the business affairs and the pul)lic duties of life. 
Wealth and power and those pursuits which bring renown 
arc the objects of his aml)ition. Woman is restricted by 
custom to the fireside and to the interests of the household. 
The welfare and the happiness of those around her en- 
gage her heart and mind. She stands exalted in the per- 
son of her sex and in the sacred character of her household 
duties, and needs no other deed or achievement to give her 
eminence than the faithful iperformance of them. 

The present century, as it has often been said, in the 
awakening glow of its intelligence, has removed the re- 
strictions which the social customs of the past had thrown 
around woman, and opened to her equally with man the 
portals of learning and the public pursuits of life. She 
lias promptly availed herself of the concession and privi- 
leges granted, and obtained instruction in the various pro- 
fessions and avocations. That of literature has been the 
special one, as opening to her a s]:)here for the exercise of 
her intellectual gifts and literary attainments, and as being 
well adapted to the quiet seclusion of home. 

In the South, among the first to appear before the public 
as an author is the subject of this sketch. At the time, she 
resided at Columbus, Ga. ; afterwards at Tallahassee, Fla. 
Perhaps the first production of her pen and genius was a 
floral poem, written and arranged for the coronation of 
the Queen of May. The verse, the music, the sentiment, 
the descri])tions and personifications of the flowers exhibit 
a rare and delicate taste and fancy, and unsurpassed by any 
English ]X)et of the present or of former times. As re- 
cited and sung in woodland bower and by nymphs of earth- 
born lineage, in the presence of the writer in the May morn 
■of his life, it was to him exquisite and charming, and now 



143 Southern Literature. 

in the senile years of life it comes up before his mind still 
radiant with the beauty, freshness and fragrance of spring. 

It was as a writer of fiction that Mrs. Hentz attracted 
the special attention of the reading public. This was in the 
early "forties." Books then were rare and the production 
of any pen would secure for the writer from the public the 
award of genius. The following are some of the works 
of Mrs. Hentz: "The Planter's Uride," "Moss Springs," 
"Ugly Effie," "Robert Graham." They were read with 
eagerness by all lovers of fiction. They showed taste, purity 
of style and sentiment, easy narrative, and in a word, con- 
stituted healthier literature for the young minds than the 
weird and imin-obable sketches of Bret llarte. the stories 
of Rider Haggard, with their oriental magnificence of in- 
vention and description, or the oliscure and fantastic pro- 
ductions of Rudyard Kipljng. These occupy the plac"es of 
honor in the literary world to-day, whilst the works of 
Mrs. Hentz are scarcely known. 

It is unnecessary at this period to make an analysis and 
review of her merits as a writer. It would be as useless 
to gather up the faded flowers of sjiring to revive their 
vivid tints and fragrance, as to evoke her works from their 
lonely nooks in the libraries of the land, and to restore 
them to popular favor. Her name and fame will be sweetly 
embalmed to posterity in the beauty and fragrance of the 
Mav-day poem she wrote, and as long as flowers bloom 
and birds sing should she be remembered by the daughters 
of the "Sunnv South." 



MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY. 

In his description of the "Temple of Fame," the English 
poet Pope represents the tuneful "Nine," the votaries of 
song, as ranged near the throne of the fickle goddess with 
eyes forever fixed on her as they sing. He savs. "for fame 
they raise their voice and tune the string." This may be 
predicated of some who have essayed poetical composition, 
but few, alas ! who sought it, could boast of success. The 



Mrs. Amklia B. Wkm?y, 143 

ij^'lorious ])liant()ni, the dazzlint^ cheat, to live a second life 
in others' breath," eluded their grasj). 

The true sons and dau_tj;-hters of song sing their notes 
artlessly like the birds of the forest in springtime. They 
spontaneously pour forth in joyful utterance the gay 
fancies that fill the mind, or with thrilling pathos tell the 
deep feelings of the soul. They sing not for fame, but 
because they love to sing. Such are they to whom fame 
comes unlooked for, if it comes at all. Little did old blind 
Homer think as he wandered from city to city through- 
out Greece and the Ionian isles, singing for his bread, that 
those songs which he sung, and as now arranged in the 
Iliad, would with all consenting time crown him forever 
with the highest honors of the epic muse. Nor is it to be 
supposed that Shakespeare, as he with divine genius per- 
sonified nature with enrapturing charm in his immortal 
dramas, had the least thought that he would occupy in 
succeeding ages the foremost place in English literature. 
And thus we nn'ght mention others of lesser note. 

The Southern writer, Mrs. Amelia 15. Welby, the sub- 
ject of this essay, may be ranked with this class, if the 
romantic story of her life be true, as related. A native of 
Tennessee, she is represented as being a flower-girl and 
that the poetical productions that have given her a name 
and place in Southern literature were written and disposed 
of in the sale of her flowers. No ambition fired her soul,. 
no dream filled her mind of winning for herself the ivy 
chaplet, the reward of learned brows, by the efl"usions of 
her pen. The story goes that her pieces attracted the no- 
tice of a gentleman who had literary taste to perceive their 
merit, and through his patronage they found their way to 
the press. They were collected and published in book form 
in the "forties" of the present century. Tie afterwards 
made her an offer of marriage, and she became Mrs. 
Welby. 

The poems of "Amelia, or Mrs. Welby," arc character- 
ized by modesty of thought and of language. There is 
nothing overstrained in style or love-sick in sentiment 
about them, as is generally the case with all young poets. 
Her verse does not blush "rosy red," love's true color, as 



144 Southern Literature. 

■said of Tom Moore's, the Irish poet ; nor has it the im- 
passioned fervor of the poetry- of Ella Wheeler Wilcox, so 
popular at the present day. "The Pulpit" is perhaps her 
most dio-nifiod piece. The vivid description it gives of 
true evangelic eloquence must have been taken from real 
life. Who it was that with the burning raptures of speech 
awoke the inspiration and formed the subject of the poem 
is a matter of inquiry. It may have been Millburn, the 
l3lind preacher, who has been for many years chaplain of the 
Senate of the United States. The poem is worthy of 
thought and study to the minister who desires that the 
immortal themes of the Gospel should come flaming from 
his tongue, and his words should smite with force like 
arrows from the quiver of the far-darting Apollo as de- 
scribed by Homer. 

There are other pieces in the volume of poems published 
hy Mrs. Welby that have the grace and aroma of true 
poetry. As a writer she should be ranked among the gifted 
minds of the South, and her book assigned an honored 
place in the libraries of Southern homes. 



MRS. AUGUSTA J. WILSON. 

Literature opens to the mind a broad and diversified 
iield for thought, instruction and pleasure. In it are 
■stored up the wisdom, virtue, learning, feelings and expe- 
rience of past ages. Here poetry leads out into its Elysian 
gardens to regale with music of verse and blossoms of 
thought as exquisite as the warbling of birds and the 
flowers of spring. Here the historian in glowing narra- 
tive tells of the mighty events of the past, the revolu- 
tions of kingdoms, the shock and carnage of battles, and 
the overthrow of valiant leaders stained with no inglorious 
•dust. Here, also, fiction upon its fascinating pages por- 
trays in ideal creations men, things and events with vivid 
touch, as if t.iey were living entities in the shifting drama 
of human life. 

There is no form of literature more popular and entic- 



Mrs. Augusta J. Wilson. 145 

Ing to the literary world than that of fiction. Still its place 
in the field of letters is doubtful. There are some who 
hold that the readinf^ of novels and romance is detrimen- 
tal to the strength and vigor of the mind, and afford no 
solid information. It is also maintained that it corrupts 
and destroys all taste for useful and substantial reading. 

It is still furtlicr asserted that the young minds, who are 
the numerous readers of the works of fiction, obtain false 
views of life from the pictures given of virtue and vice 
being too highly colored, and the characters of men and 
women presented being no more real than the fabled fairies 
by belated peasants seen in moonlight revel upon the sum- 
mer green. It is likewise predicated that the promis- 
cuous reading of novels depraves the morals of society. 
That such is the effect is largely demonstrated in the pop- 
ularity that "Trilby" and other novels of like character have 
obtained with the general American reading public. 

There is another literary class who would maintain the 
position that novel reading is beneficial. They say that 
it is highly recreative to the mind when wearied with the 
toils and trials of the scenes of real and busy life. It is 
delightful to abstract your mind from the corroding cares 
of life and lose yourself in the 'pleasing dreams of the 
novelist, although they may be as transient and unsubstan- 
tial as the golden exhalations of the dawn. Some, also, 
claim that there is intellectual benefit derived from novel- 
reading, as it strengthens and invigorates the imagination, 
that imperial faculty of the mind, and that ideal represen- 
tations are elevating and refining. Thus the matter of the 
merits and demerits of fiction stand in equal poise. 

There are those who hold the opinion that the writing 
of a novel or romance is an easy task, and that it re- 
quires no high degree or brilliancy of intellect. They as- 
sign the fiction-writer a rank in literature inferior to that 
of the poet and the historian. This may be the case with 
many of the works now produced and daily thrust upon 
the reading public, but not all of them. The framework 
■of the novel, say they, has been about the same through 
all centuries. It is the same old story of "love not run- 

10 si 



146 Southern Literature. 

n'mg; smooth" dramatized and having the same dt''nouement 
or ending. 

The,re are those who deem that it reqnires the highest 
order of mind to write a meritorious novel. Grand and 
suhhme was the genius that produced "Ivanhoe," "Rob 
Roy," "Waverley," and other works of Sir Waher Scott. 
His creations were so marvelous and lifelike, and came 
forth with such rapidity of production, that he was called 
the "Magician of the North." It required deep, accurate 
and comprehensive knowledge of human nature and of life 
to produce "The Newcomes" of Thackeray. What a vast 
and varied view and acquaintance with many-colored life 
did Dickens possess to create the plots and characters in 
all his works from "Pickwick Papers" to "Dombey and 
Son." The writer of "Ben-Hur" had a fecundity of mind 
and of literary resources that comes within the intellectual 
compass of but few individuals. 

As a writer of fiction the author, Mrs. Augusta J. 
Wilson, whose name appears at the head of this article, has- 
had and still retains a notable popularity in the South. She 
has given to the public a number of works since "Beulah" 
came from her pen. A cursory review of the literary merits 
of her productions will require several articles. 

The name of Beulah selected by Mrs. Wilson (nde 
Evans) as the title of her novel, was happily chosen. In 
its signification and use it might fitly predicate the delight 
which she would convey to the reader in the airy realm of 
fiction which it would open up, as Bunyan, the divine 
dreamer, by his Beulah or "land of rest," where the sun 
shines, the flowers bloom and the birds sing "all the year 
round," symbolized the sweet repose of the Christian 
awaiting his summons to the skies. Her book was a suc- 
cess, and established her name and reputation in the lit- 
erary world. The reading public of the South read it with 
eagerness, and applauded the genius of the author. She be- 
came a reigning star in literary circles, although it was in 
lonely brilliancy and beauty as that of the planet that opens 
the gates of the morning. As it was said of Lord Byron 
after the publication of his first canto of "Childe Harold,"" 
that he awoke next morning and found himself famous 



Mrs. Augusta J. Wilson. 147 

throughout Europe, so it might have been said of Miss 
Evans then as to the South. 

To produce the work how many hours of thought and 
toil did it cost. How many days and nights did her brain 
busily work to cast the plot and in the creative power of 
the imagination to give form and feature, existence and 
personality, to the various characters that were to appear as 
dramatis persons. Then to secure unity of thought and 
correctness of expression, how often did she have to erase 
and rewrite page after page. The description might well 
apply to her which she gives of Bculah, the heroine of the 
book, who was admired and eulogized for her talent as a 
writer, when in speaking of her she says : "She sat be- 
fore her desk writing industriously on an article which 
she had promised to complete before the end of the week ; 
her head ached ; the lines grew dim, and she laid aside 
her manuscript and leaned her pale face on her palms." 
Then, in a review of Mrs. Wilson as an author, who would 
write a single line of criticism that would impair her just 
fame? 

Like the current of a gently meandering stream, the nar- 
rative of the book flows smoothly on without the in- 
tricacy of plot, or the variety of incident, or the tragic 
touches of murder and mystery which enter so largely into 
the composition of Bulwer's and Dickens's novels. The 
diction is glowing, the style rather figurative, and the range 
of topics and the modes of expression show the author to 
have been an industrious reader. In the delineation of 
character, the breadth and delicacy of conception of Sir 
Walter Scott, Dickens, or Shakespeare could not be ex- 
pected of her. The two principal characters in the fic- 
tion, Beulah and Dr. Hartwell, in some respects are for- 
cibly drawn. The sentiment of the book may be too 
strong and declamatory for real life. 

The religious experience and the fortunes of Beulah 
Benton, an orphan girl from an asylum, form the theme 
or argument that constitutes the thread of the story, and 
stand associated throughout. The former topic is empha- 
sized ; the latter is in some degree incidental. No more 
important matter can be presented to the mind than relig- 



148 Southern Literature. 

ions experience, or more worthy to be dramatized, as is 
fully exemplified in its being- the purpose of the liook of 
Job, the oldest and the grandest book of the Bible. Her 
experience in a measure corresponds to that of the relig- 
ious world generally. In childhood her faith and trust 
in God were simple and fervent. Having experienced as 
an orphan the cold and bitter scorn of the world, it freeze.^> 
the genial current of her piety. She can not luiderstand 
and harmonize the ways of a kind and gracious Bcng 'in 
the diverse allotments of life. 

She turns from God and tries to reason herself into 
a state of infidelity. The casuistry she employs is specious, 
and runs in the same time-worn channel of all those who 
discard the Bible and its teachings, because they can not 
comprehend the providence of God. After drifting hope- 
lessly and aimlessly upon the restless sea of skepticism, 
she is finally brought back to the moorings of her for- 
mer faith. Like Job and thousands of others of the human 
race, she had heard of God by the hearing of the 
ear, but after she had experienced his presence and sup- 
port in the furnace of affliction, she would not exchange 
""her faith for the universe." 

The first draught to an author from fame's magic cup, 
like new wine, has an intoxicating eiYect, and awakens the 
burning resolve in the soul to repeat on a grander scale 
the experiment of writing a book, lliis seems to have been 
the result of Mrs. Wilson as to her brilliant success in 
her second literary venture before the public. As the word 
Beulah in the Hebrew tongue signifies married, it was in- 
cidentally prognostic of her becoming firmly fixed in her 
choice and profession as an author. The unique case is re- 
corded in the history of English literature of a young lady 
writing the rare alliterative verse, "Let lovely lilacs line 
Lee's lonely lane," and never anything worthy of note 
afterwards. The first work from a writer of ordinary tal- 
ent, if it has any claims as to magnitude and merit, will 
contain the vigor and freshness of his mind and the sum 
and substance of his literary acquisitions. The wealth and 
empire of genius, like that of ancient Cathay, is untold. 



Mrs. Augusta J. Wilson. ' 149 

As in the case of Shakespeare, liavingf exhausted old 
worlds, it creates new ones. 

The fourth work of Mrs. Wilson bears the title of "St. 
Elmo." it is a more ambitious book than "Beulah" in 
its style and sco])e. Besides the ordinary phases f)f feelinjT^, 
topics and incidents that usually form the stai)le of the 
novel, it apparently has a twofold piu^pose and moral ; the 
one is to exhibit tlie iniquity and condenm the practii:e of 
duelinjr; the other, and the main one, is to teach and illus- 
trate the theory "that all works of fiction should be didac- 
tic, and inculcate not only sound morality but scientific 
theories." The custom and practice of duelinp^, as it has 
obtained in the world, is stripped of its meretricious cov- 
erinj^ antl decoration as the code of honor, and in the death 
of its victims and the wretched misery consec[uenl, it is 
presented in its true character as murder. The laws of 
the land have rightly settled the criminality of dueling 
by making it a felony. 

As to the second purpose, nothing will more fitly il- 
lustrate it, and also the character of the book, than to 
quote from the gifted authoress. She says : "To write 
with current coldness for the mere jiastime of author and 
readers, without aiming to inculcate some regenerative 
principle or to photogra])h some valuable i)hase of pro- 
tean truth, was in her estimation ignoble, for her high 
standard demanded that all books should be, to a certain 
extent, didactic, wandering, like evangelists, among the 
people, and making some man or woman or child happier 
or wiser or better — more patient or more hopeful — by their 
utterance. Believing that every earnest author's mind 
should ])rove a mint where all valuable ores are collected 
from rich veins of a universe, are cautiously coined, and 
thence munificently circulated." Thus does Ibe heroine 
of the story, who is an enthusiastic aspirant for literary 
fame, speak. 

Whether this was the i)urpose of the author in writing 
"St. Elmo," it is a most admirable illustration of her theory. 
The chance of success in writing fiction on this plan is 
justly criticized by one of the characters, who says that 
people read novels merely to be amused, not educated, and 



150 Southern Literature. 

tliey will not tolerate technicalities and abstract specula- 
tion in lien of exciting plots and melodramatic cU'nioue- 
mcnt. The book is not an epitome of science, yet it 
abounds so profusely in scientific terms, quotations from 
foreis^n languages and remote historical allusions, that the 
reader who sits down to read it should equip himself with 
lexicons and encyclopedias, full and conq)lete. Never- 
theless, "St. Llmo" is the production of a mind opulent in 
genius and literary resources. It will be replete with in- 
terest and pleasure to those who delight in classic lore and 
antiquarian research. 

The human mind in its immortal vigor and fecundity, 
as said of the fabletl garden of Amidas. as soon as 
one flower is plucked, spontaneously puts forth another. 
This is a pleasing meta[)hysical fact, and in the field of 
literature is of infinite service, as it leads to nndtiplicity 
and variety of modes of thought and expression. It seems 
that there is or should be a limit to the power of invention 
to the mind, and that it would be a moral impossibility for 
the prolific writer of books, such as was Dickens and Walter 
Scott, to preserve distinct and separate the lines of their 
plots and delineations of their numerous characters. There 
will stmietimes be sameness and monotony, allhough, as 
in the "endless sea of human faces" there is a resemblance, 
there are rarely two exactly alike. There has been but one 
Shakespeare, of whom it is said when he had exhausted 
all known world imagined new ones. Notwithstanding 
there may be great similitude in the productions of liction 
writers, yet it may be said that it is the attribute of genius 
to be fresh as the dew and reviving as the sunbeam. 

The versatility that characterizes the works of Dickens, 
Scott and Shakespeare may not be predicated of the writ- 
ings of Mrs. Wilson. There may be change in the scenery 
that serves as the background to the stage of action upon 
which the characters that enter into the plots move and act, 
but there is at least a similarity in the moral anil plan of 
the story. With so many works froni her pen it might rea- 
sonably be su] -oscd that the power of invention with her 
would necessarily flag and the stock of her resources would 
be diminished. The title of her first book, 'Tnez ; or the Fall 



Mrs. Augusta J. Wilson, 151 

of the Alamo," was well calculated to ini])ress the ])u])lic 
inincl. Who has not heard of the "Alamo," that hloody 
trag'edy in Texas history? The scene of the book was laid 
in stirring- times and in a land which would open up to the 
mind a field of daring adventure that would furnish rich 
material for the i)en and the imagination. It is said that 
it is the purpose of the author to rewrite "Inez." It cer- 
tainly docs not com])are in freshness of style and vigor of 
thought with "Bculah," nor in strength and force of 
plot and character with "St. Elmo," stiff and encumbered 
as the latter may be with its profuseness of scientific allu- 
sions and technicalities. Regarded in itself, "Inez" has its 
merits and is worth the reading. 

The exposure which it makes of the Roman Catholic 
Church in its propaganda constitutes in itself an object 
and purpose well worthy of the writing of the book. 
Rome ! Papal Rome ! cruel has she been in the past, if the 
records of history are true. She is now shorn of her tem- 
poral power. Babylon ! P)abylon the great has fallen ! 
Has she l^een ])urged of her ambition to rule the nations 
of the earth by a sword ? There are many who say she 
lias not, and are a]>prehensive that her withering touch 
may fall upon this American re])ublic. 

The beautiful and touching force with which Mrs. Wil- 
son portrays the religion of the Gospel to be "a. root to 
sustain ; a foundation to support ; the bond of charity ; the 
curb of evil passions ; the consolation of the wretched ; the 
stay of the timid ; and the hope of the dying," renders her 
books morally and s])iritually edifying to the reader. They 
go forth on their holy errands to invite mankind to earthly 
happiness and eternal life. 

High, honored, and delicately responsible is the sphere 
that the author occupies. As he penetrates the realm of 
mind and t.mfol(ls in classic |)rose or "high immortal verse" 
the unspoken thoughts and feelings that lie in cradled 
■slumber in weary human hearts, he becomes a teacher ^o 
mankind, and adds to the sum of human enjoyment. The 
task of the writer no doubt becomes enamoring, as in its 
toils the mind glances from earth and scales "the high 
lieaven of invention, and gives to airy nothings a local hab- 



152 



vS( MTVw ]<: K N Lrri', r at u r i-: 



itation and a iiamo." It was cx(|uisiU' joy to Milton, no- 
(lonl)t, wlu'u lu' I'oniposod his "Paradise Lost," as ho hiy 
down at iii^ht lo lol his mind soar amid imiiuutahlii's spir- 
itnal and nnwiU-d, or lo i)rood m rri'ati\r lanr\' o\rr the 
bosom of oarlh and lo i)orlia\' llial w ihk'i lU'ss ot liaj^rance 
and hloom w hi rr anj^els kept armed j;nard ovei" ihe shnn- 
l)ers ol [\\v III si pair of lunnan lovers. 

It is presnmed Iha! the work of eomposilion is to 
Mrs. Wilson a delii;hlfnl task, if liie nninher o{ xolnnios 
she has urilleii and pnhlislu-d is taken as an imiex and as 
e\idenee. In this artiele tlu> di'siL^ii is to call the attention' 
of the reader to her lasl work. lU'sidi-s this one and tlu>se 
alreadv iiolued, she ha> written lliree others: "N'ashli," 
"Maearia" and " In felii-e." Ilu' one now under eousidi'i"- 
ation hears the peiailiar title "At tlie Mere\ <A riherins." 
The phrase ealls np to mind the iU famed t\rant id' that 
name, who was the sei'ond emperor ol aneieni Koine, and" 
one would infer fiom this eirenmstanee. that he eonstitutctr 
a eeiitral lii^nre in the storw Nothitii;- of the kind occurs, 
sa\e thai the hero o\ the drama has an nnnsnall\- imperious 
temper, and makes all things siihmil to his swa\. 

riiis work o\ the dist inj^nished writer is considered hy 
some to he her hest production. It certainly has its points 
of lilerar\ e\cellence. I"he style is varied; now plain and 
simph', now tlow erinL; into poetic luxuriance oi lanj.;uai;"c 
;mil thon<_;lil in the descriptions which are L;i\en ol the 
heanties oi ii.iime and of the works ol art presented. Idie 
moral and social teachings are pnii- and elevalm<; and are 
well calciikited to henelit the reader. k'oUowint;' her theory 
that woi'k^ o\ liction shonld he didactic and ahiuuul in scl- 
ent itic instruction, there are many erudite phrases and allu- 
sions to awaken thoui^ht and investij^ation. This may ho 
re^iarded as a featme i^i merit h\ those who ha\e the taste 
and patience to consult lexicons and encyclopedias, whilst 
to others it forms an ohjoction. 

The lilerar\' career o{ M r.s Wilson in its sucooss and 
fame, the hi_i;l> uuH-al sentiment that per\ailes her writings- 
and tho i^races oi her st\le and Iani^naj.ie. should servo 
as an incentive and ;m example to the \onnj;' female minds 
of the Sonth to intellectual cnllure and elTort They shonhL 



Mrs. Lour.A Kkndatj, Roc.i'.us . 155. 

read her hooks, not for the- nu're exeileineiit of the story 
of love that eaeh eoiitains, hut for the animation it g'ives 
to the taste for the instruetive, the henntiful and the j^ood. 
As a writer slie will stand in the front rank, if not at 
the head of Sonlhcrn writers. 



MRS. LOULA KRNDALL ROCI-.RS. 

(jeiiins for poetry is elassed as a dislinelive endowment 
of mind. So e.\alte<l was this intelleetual attrihute re- 
garded hy the aneient Greeks and Romans, that in their 
beautifnl mytholoj^y the i)ersons who were thus distin- 
guished were eonsidered to he ehosen of the j^'ods ; imag- 
inary divinities, as the Muses, to look with favor on the 
hour of their nativity, to till their minds with poetie ins])ira- 
tion, and to preside t)ver tln'ir destinies through life. 
Prodigies were fabled to have marked their ehildhood 
as prophetic of their glorious calling, as the swarm oi 
bees clustering on the cradle of the infant TlaPi, being 
jirognostic of the mystic i)ower that in alU'r years 
wonid till his lips with the honey of jiersuasion ; or 
the doves that covered with leaves Latinian Horace, 
when as a child he lay wearied and sleeping in the forest. 

Poets were the priests of the gods, the interpreters of 
the divine oracles, and appointed to foretell the events of 
futurity, and as Ilesiod, Tlieognis and others, to point out 
the road of life to men. We of the ])resent day know that 
God — our C^od — as the divine Jehovah, made his prophets- 
poets, and they spoke as they were moved by the Jloly 
Ghost. 

Qiicr sitmii est, it has been made a subject of inquiry by 
poets and phiU)sophers, says I loracc in his "Ars Poctica," 
whether the laudable poem was produced by nature or art; 
he could not see what luere study coidd accomplish with- 
out a rich vein, nor what uncultured genius could do; thus 
the one demands the aid of the other, and conspires ami- 
cably to the same end. The design of poetry is to instruct 
and to please, and the fidl aiiu and glory of tlu- art cani 



1^4 SOUTIIKRN LlTKRATURK. 

iidt 1)0 attained without unity both in oenius and art, that is, 
iiistructino- so as to please and pleasint^- so as to instruct. 
As an important poetical maxim, he asserts that "wisdom 
and ^(H)d sense are the stnu-ce and principle of good 
V ritini;-," and the attainuieiu of these is the result of study 
ami relleclion. IWoom and elej^ance of languag-e will not 
delight without thought and feeling. \'erses devoid of 
them are mere melodious trilles. It is not sufficient for 
]->oems to be beautiful; let them be sweet and whitherso- 
ever they will lead the mintl of the reader. DenuKritus 
held that genius made the poet, and those only to be true 
poets who inchdged in the rhai^sody of song. The centuries 
of the old will drive off pieces devoid of instruction ; the 
ranks of the }Oung will turn away ivom those which delight 
not the fancv or tin-ill with emotion. 

r>oth genius antl art ciuispire to make the genuine poet 
and to create the lofty song. Clenius in its excursive flights 
over the flowering held of tlunight has' been compared to 
the bee as it goes out in the springtime to gather pollen 
from the llowers. As the bee. guided by its unerring in- 
stinct, seeks the fragrant caKxes which yield the desired 
sweets, so does genius prompt the mind to select from the 
mass of topics those tliat contain in them the spirit and 
essence of poetry. As in the waxen cells of the bee. so art 
nuist come in to aid the poet in the arrangement of his top- 
ics and the framework of his thoughts so as to secure 
unit}- of design and beauty of expression. Insania or the 
madness of genius inspires the poet to revel in song until 
he becomes intoxicated as the bee with the perfume of 
llowers, and to care nothing for glory or the gain of pelf, 
so enamored is he of the tlivine beauty and grace of the 
l\[use. Still further, it is genius that imparts to the mind 
its racy wit, as the formic acid of the bee to honey its de- 
licious sting. 

It was genius in Horace, as he says of himself, after the 
maimer and custom of the Matinian bee. with assiduous 
toil gathering sweet ihynio around the groves and banks of 
the moist Tiber, that led him to explore the fields of mythic 
lore, the pages of heroic antiquity and the stirring events 
of his own illustrious age, and to gather from them honeyed 



Mrs. IvOula Kendall Rogerj^. 155 

sweets to store away in cells of lyric poetry. It was g'enius 
in Homer that inspired those lovely creations of character 
and incident, and so molded his iictions and so blended the 
false and the true, that produced the Iliad, and art has so ar- 
ranged it as to make it the brilliant wonder of all time. It 
was the grand comprehensive genius of Shakespeare that 
enabled him to grasp nature in all its varied forms of life 
and l)eauty and the huiuan character in all its features, 
and to ])ortray them with such glowing ])ersoniiication as 
to give to his dramas the fascinating touches of real life. 

It is genius that in the glowing forge o^ thought fash- 
ions and produces those great truths that become current 
as proverbs of wisdom among men, and those poems small 
or great that fill the great human heart and are cherished 
through the lapse of centuries. 

The sons of song shine from the past which they have 
made glorious. Time has gathered the productions of 
their genius in the ghjwing lyric and the stately epic into 
the leaves of its im])erishable volume, and has given them 
a place in the hearts aud memories of men forever. The 
Muses, the imaginary divinities of Pieria, have vanished 
into the land of fable ; the poet no longer invokes the aid 
of Melpomene, the ruler of the sweet melody of the golden 
shell, as did Horace, to assist him in his tuneful labors; the 
divine Apollo no longer bestows the poetic altlatus, the 
name of the poet and the Delian laurels; yet the faculty 
for poetry still exists among men. 

The general diffusion of knowledge and the progress 
made in mental culture that marks the present marvelous 
age have rendered the talent for poetical composition 
wide-spread. Like violets in the wild woods or roses in the 
•garden, poems are springing up in the nooks and corners 
of the journals and the ])arterres of the magazines through- 
out the land in every issue of the press. Many of them 
are sweet and beautiful; many of them will ])erish in the 
moment of their birth ; some will have a place in the folds 
of the cedared boards of immortality. Talent has taken 
the stead of genius; combined with toil, ever patient toil, it 
develops the poetical faculty in power and beauty, if the 
•germ of it is in the mind. The box with its forty divi- 



156 Southern Literature. 

sions, through which Tom Moore had all his poetical pro- 
ductions to pass in the process to their completion, gave ta 
his Irish melodies a grace heyond the reach of art. The 
incessant plying of the shuttle of the imagination by Ten- 
nyson in weaving into his poems new and daring forms of 
style, the glinting beauty of language and all the linked 
harmonies and graces of versification, crowned him the 
poet-laureate not only of England but of the century. 

The South as a political section presents no long array 
of genius or opulence of literature. It has, however, pro- 
duced writers both of prose and poetry who deserve places 
of honor and distinction in letters. Among these may fitly 
be placed Mrs. Loula Kendall Rogers, the subject of this ar- 
ticle. She is now a resident of Rarnesville, Ga. The home 
of her childhood, Bellewood, was in Upson county, of that 
State. As known to the writer her home was the abode 
of wealth, taste and refinement. All her environments 
were favorable to the culture of her mind and heart. Her 
father. Dr. David Kendall, was a man of rare mental poise 
that fitted him to be the guide and governor of a house- 
hold, and with amenities of address and speech that made 
his companionship delightful in the studio. Her mother 
was endowed with those moral and mental virtues and 
suavity of manners that qualified her for the sweet sov- 
ereignty of the home circle, -and properly to train the 
young spirits committed to her maternal care and guidance 
for the duties of life. In an article from the pen of Mrs. 
Rogers, in speaking of the home of her childhood, she 
writes, "The best books filled our library, and it was my de- 
light when a child to climb up to the highest shelves and 
capture sotue old antique volume that had passed a century 
in the family." The solid mahogany bedstead, with its 
carved leaves and flowers, the cedar chest, with its fra- 
grant odor and beauteous stain of nature's dye, as heir- 
looms from the past, told of a noble ancestry, and the 
bearing of the faiuily comported with the dignity of their 
record. 

In the fresh hours of childhood, as she has stated, the 
genius of her mind and taste led her to the love of books. 
To direct and inspire her in her early pursuit of knowl- 



Mrs. Loula Kendatx Rogers. 157 

'edge she had neither the inspiration of Polyh^'mnia nor 
any of the other Muses, but the sound, solid and cultured 
sense of her mother. 

In the first years of her education she attended the Cen- 
tral Female College at Culloden, Ga. ; afterward the Geor- 
gia Episcopal Institute, Montpelier, under the supervision 
of the Right Reverend Bishop Elliott ; and graduated at 
Wesleyan Female College, Macon, Ga. Her graduating 
composition was the first poem ever written by a graduate 
of that institute. 

Leaving the literary seclusion of the college she resumed 
her wonted place in the circle of home with its sweet ap- 
pointments of social enjoyment and means of intellectual 
culture. She enters upon the threshold of active life, and 
to her its opening scenes expand full of hope and pleasure 
in the years to come. Whatever might be the aspirations 
of her mind, rigid custom had fixed and confined the sphere 
of labor for her sex to the precincts of the houschoTd. 
There was no choice of vocation to the educated woman 
of that time save that of the rare chance of employment 
as teacher in the schoolroom, or that to which the unfre- 
quented walks of literature might invite. The one was con- 
sidered an unaristocratic calling and was unsought by the 
sons and daughters of parents who were in affluent circum- 
stances, as its hireling character did not accord well with 
their patrician notions ; the other opened an inviting field 
for educated minds, and was opulent in all the natural and 
historical resources necessary for the creation of a rich 
and varied literature, but there was little promise of re- 
muneration. 

There was a propensity in the youthful mind of Mrs. 
Rogers for literary pursuits. Either as a spontaneous out- 
flow, or as fostered from daily association and conmiing- 
ling of thought with the concourse of great minds in the 
perusal of their volumes of wit and wisdom in the library, 
the poetic faculty of her nature was stirred. It may have 
been awakened by the scenery around Bellewood, her dear 
home, upon which her eyes opened at morning's light and 
reposed at evening's hour, and as described by her, present- 
ing, when seen in the mantling beauty of spring, a broad 



158 Southern Literature. 

encircling landscape of stretches of hills and vales crown- 
ed and dotted with lofty oaks, interspersed with blooming- 
orchards and verdant fields, and with the horizon belted 
with the dark-green ridge of the Pine mountains, whilst in 
the distance might be heard the roar of Tobler as it hur- 
ried its waters along into the Flint, or the Fronetiska as 
called in the musical tongue of the Indian, to be borne by- 
it into the Gulf. 

Mrs. Rogers became a contributor of short poems to 
the press. During the civil contest she gave expression to 
her fervent southern patriotism in war lyrics. The merit 
of these may be noticed at some future day. Her chief 
poem is titled "Toccoa The Beautiful." Upon it will rest 
her claim to poetic genius. It stands now laurel-crowned 
in the theater of literary criticism and award. It won the 
prize offered by the Home Economist, published at Wor- 
cester, Mass., 1884, for the best poem. It was published 
in Werner's Magazine, and has been recited in nearly every 
State in the Union. 

The poem is based upon a legend that tells of the sad 
story and tragic fate of an Indian maiden named Toccoa. 
As described, she was the daughter of Hiawassee, an In- 
dian chief, and was of superior beauty and intelligence to 
all her companions. Of the tribe of the Uchees, she lived 
in the mountains of North Georgia. The white man with 
ever encroaching step had not yet penetrated that region. 
Upon Toccoa rested the spirit of prophecy, and she had a 
vision of the future. It unfolded to her the destruction of 
the red man. She saw- the gathering storm, the ever-rolling 
tide of civilization, the clefting of the mountains and the 
rush of the iron steed, the steam locomotive. 

When the "council men" heard the vision expounded 
that told of the destruction of their race, they decreed that 
the ill-omened prophetess should die. Bounding up the 
mountain's lofty height, they found Toccoa seated upon a 
crag absorbed in meditation. They seized and .bore her to 
the edge of a precipice, and having pierced her body with 
a hundred arrows, hurled it into the chasm below. Ere she 
w^as slain, she demanded of them to tell her father, who was 
then away on the war-path, when two moons had rolled 



Mrs. Loula Kendall Rogers. 159 

away to look for her tears in the pearly spray of the water- 
fall near by. , • .1 ^ f.,1 

Hence her name and story is perpetuated in that crystal 
sheet of water that with a leap and a bound descends one 
hundred and eighty feet, and enraptures the beholder with 
its miagnificent beauty of Hood and spray. 

The gifted writer was fortunate in the selection ot the 
dactylic'' hexameter as the meter in which she chose to 
write her poem. This was a stroke of genius, as this 
measure, with its long sweeping rhythm and cadence, is well 
fitted to give pathos and dignity to tragic narrative, ihe 
interweaving of four lines of tetrameter verse m the stanzas 
is >a happy device to relieve the flow which would other- 
wise become languid and monotonous. As a specimen of 
the poem, we quote the last stanza which gives the sequel 
of the story. It tells how Hiawassee hunted for his daugh- 
ter Toccoa', when on his return he was told of her death. 
" Maddened— faint— broken-hearted, plunged he into the crystal 

Resthi'i^ not amid the darkness or the daylight's piercing beam ; 
SearchTng ever for his daughter, but he saw her face no more ; 
Gone from earthly sight forever was the radiant ioccoa. 

Ere two moons had passed in sorrow. 
Came a shimmering stream of brightness, 
Still, so still, its silvery whiteness 
Seemed a bridal veil in lightness ; 

'Twas the tear of sweet Toccoa gleaming in the rainbow hue^ 
Of the Great Hereafter— telling of the Beautiful and Irue. 

The theme was likewise happily chosen, as there will 
always be in all minds touched with sensibility a romantic 
and 'unwaning interest in the Indians as portrayed by 
Cooper and Irving. Their melancholy story and appar- 
ently inevitable doom of extinction as a race will ever stir 
the human heart. Each song and legend that tells of 
them will go down to posterity touched with all the en- 
kindling glow of the romance of their history. 

The part that the female sex has played in literature 
during the present century has been one of peculiar luster, 
and is worthy of the loftiest panegyric. They may not 
have produced masterpieces like those from the past that 



3 6o SOUTHKRN LiTKRATURE. 

liave stood as colunins of f;ranito finu and erect amidst the 
flow of centuries, the Hterary huuhiiarks of a nation's j^lory, 
yet in the reahii of poetry and fiction they have made hirge, 
rich and varied contrilnitions to the general stock of Htera- 
lure. They have performed a noble service in the grand 
iind silent temple where learning sits enthroned, adorning 
its columns with the soft acanthus wreaths of song and its 
arches with the graceful festoons of fiction. Their poetic 
genius and taste have been forcibly expressed in the relig- 
ious jioeni and the sacreil lyric or hymn. Like Mary in the 
gospel with the alabaster box of precious ointment, Fran- 
ces Ridley Havergal in sweet, poetic numbers has poured 
out the fragrance of devotion at a Saviour's feet and filled 
the world with the odor of his love and praise. Dinah Mu- 
loch, from the rich treasures of thought in holy fervor, has 
sweetly told of Christ the blessed Redeemer, and the joys 
and comforts of his grace that, like "myrrh, aloes and cassia 
out of the ivory palace of perfume," make glad the heart 
of the sincere lovers of Jesus. 

Tt is in the writing of sacred lyrics and gospel hynms 
thai the female mind in lilor.ilure has been strikingly dis- 
played. More delicate style of sjK'och. tenderness of feel- 
ing, and fervor of piety (|ualif\ the sex for the task. What 
pathos, what devotion, in the songs of ["'annie J. Crosby. 
How touchingly expressed is the deep contrition that fills 
the soul of the awakened sinner in "Pass me not, O gen- 
tle Savior"! How precious to the human heart is the k)ve 
of Christ, presented in "Savior more than life io me"! 
What strength, what comfort in "I need thee every hour" 
by Annie J. Hawks ! How great a source of spiritual bene- 
diction to the church and the world have been the songs 
ci)ini^osed by the female sex who have thus consecrated 
their genius to the glory of God. They have ui^lifted from 
the Christian life tlie gloom and formality, and dissipated 
the groans, tears, strifes, doubts, fears and the constant 
laying of the foundation of repentance from dead works, 
•with which it has been associated. They have let in the 
sunshine, and made the path of the Christian as he wends 
his way heavenward to be one of triumph, joy and vic- 
torv. Thev have not the solenm music, the sublime thouuht 



Mrs. Loula Kendall Rogers. i6i 

and doctrinal teaching- of "Old Hundred," "How firm a 
foundation ye saints of the Lord," and many others of the 
old hymns, which they should not su])ersede, but serve as 
poems of rejoicing- to the Christian in his pilgrimage 
through time. 

Among the writers of sacred lyrics may be placed 
Mrs. Rogers, the subject of this article. She is the author 
'of a missionary poem that was sung at the convention of 
the delegates of the female missionary boards of the differ- 
ent conferences of the M. E. Church, South, at Nashville, 
Tenn., in iS*)/. As an index to the character and literary 
merits of this composition the following stanza is quoted: 

" Lovely minstrel, let the music of thy most entrancing lays 
Swell the triiimpli of .Teliovah in a song of joy and praise, 
Like the voice of Miriam wafted o'er tlie l)illows of (he sea; 
Cliant liis glory witli timbrel, ' Who, O Lord, is like untolhee?' " 

The noble life she has lived is Mrs. Rogers's grandest 
poem. In the s])here of Christian duty she, as a lifetime 
teacher in the Sabbath-school, has been leatling those of her 
sex in the sweet bloom of girlhood toward the beautiful 
city, and in the responsibilities of a long period of widow- 
hood she has fully met her parental obligations, by her 
energy of spirit and toil of brain securing for her children 
the benefits of a collegiate education. Rome will hereafter 
render divine honors to me as a parent said the Roman 
matron Cornelia to Marcus Nepos, the historian, who had 
written l)ittcrly of her as the mother of the two Gracchi, 
that had fallen martyrs to liberty. Thus should honor and 
distinction crown every mother who has done her parental 
duty. 

"Only a Fleeting Dream" is perhaps the finest producticin 
■of the gem'us and pen of Mrs. Rogers. It was published 
in "Woman's Work," Athens, Ga., December, i8()3. It is 
a poem of exquisite tenderness and beauty. If she had 
written nothing else it would have crowned her with the 
poet's immortal wreath. None other may excel it in deep 
pathos of soul and ethereal touches, not even Poe's "Anna- 
bel Lee." As the mind scans the lines, the heart throbs 
with emotions too deep for utterance or tears. It sweetly 

lis 1 



i62 South KRN Litkraturiv. 

recalls in ideal dream the years of wedded bliss of the 
past, and of the return of the one (the husband) so loving 
and true, whom death had borne away to the spirit-land 
in the lonj;' ago, and again are renewed the scenes and hapjjy 
dreams of life's May-morn. The blissful illusion fades, 
and "down life's weary way" the dreamer with lonely heart 
turns again. 

The story of love's deep devotion in the pt)em is no iig- 
mcnt of fancy, but had its realization in the life-experience 
of the authoress. It was written upon her birthday. As. 
she had written the first two lines, 

" Down from tlin liills of tlie Unseen Jjand 
A whisper comes to-day," 

there was a violent shaking of everything in the room, and 
she began to think it really was a spiritual manifestation. 
She arose and went out in the hall, where her sister and 
the children were gathered, and "we found out," she writes,. 
"there was an earthquake" — the one which shook Charles- 
ton to its center. 

The patriotic element is a marked feature of her charac- 
ter. This was fostered by the associations and environ- 
ments of her childhood, and by a continuity of incidents 
and events in after-life. Iler patriotic feeling has been in- 
terestingly illustrated in her personal history. She had 
the honor at two different times of presenting flags to a 
military company. The first was in i860 when in tlie bud- 
ding grace of womanhood she presented the United States 
flag to the Upson Guards. This was the last flag of "the 
stars and stripes" presented at the South. It was 'a fair, 
sweet morn, no cloud llecked the blue above, and the broad 
land was wrapped in the golden beams of sunlight. Peace 
spaiuicd the political horizon and all hearts rejoiced. The 
o\d Hag, as it threw out its silken folds to the breeze, filled' 
each bosom with patriotic joy and pride. 

When the epoch of secession came and the South would' 
set up a separate governiuent, she again presented a flag^ 
to the same military company. This time it was the "bon- 
nie blue," ov C\^nfederate Hag. It was luade with her hands, 
and the first on Georgia's soil. This flag went all throucrb 



Mrs. Louisa Kkndall Rogkrs. 163 

the war, and is now folded up aniong^ her relics of the Con- 
federacy. At a nieeting of the Dauj^hters of the Confed- 
eracy in the fall t)f 1897, at Au<^usta, Ga., which she attended 
as president of the chapter of her own town, by a stran^je 
coincidence "she sat on the stage, directly under the very 
banner" under which her deceased husband had marched. 
The incident unsealed the fountain of tear's "when the sur- 
viving luenibers of the old company marched into the hall 
amid the beating of drums, in the dear old jackets of 
gray, and canteens gracefully slung over their shoulders." 
The pride of ancestry serves to foster the principle of 
patriotism. This inlluence is not properly recognized in 
.the social structure in this government of i)olitical equality 
and marked individuality of the citizen. Moral and mental 
graces may not be always transmitted, yet more than oft 
the son will inherit the virtues of the sire. There is a 
magnetic force and power in a noble lineage and an illus- 
trious record to inspire to worthy deeds. Such may have had 
its induence in fostering the patriotism of the subject of this 
article. vShe is a lineal descendant of Sir Ralph Lane, who 
was sent over to Roanoke, Va., by Sir Walter ivaleigh in 1585. 
Her great uncle Joel Lane was the founder of Raleigh, 
N. C, and deeded 3000 acres of land to that city. Tlie 
Provisional Congress met at his house on the 12th of July, 
1775. He was a full colonel in the Revolutionary war. Her 
grandmother had five nephews that were governors — 
Governor Joe Lane of Oregon, Llenry Lane of Indiana, 
Governor Colquitt of Georgia, Governor David Swane of 
North Carolina, and Governor Lane of Alabama. 

Love of country is an ennobling principle of character. 
It is esteemed as the highest type of virtue. That soul is 
dead to every generous impulse that can not say with deep 
pathos of spirit, "this is my own, my native land." As em- 
blematic of its national glory and honor, the patriot will 
love his country's flag, 'i'he leal sons of the South can but 
love "Dixie" and cherish tender regard for the "Ixjnnie 
jlue flag" that went down in humiliation and defeat, but 
they should remember that the restored union demands 
their love and loyalty, and that the banner which now 
floats above them is the "stars and stripes," and they 



164 SouTiiKRN Litkraturp:. 

should venerate it when furled in peaee, and follow it when 
as "the war i^od" it ilini;s its folds to the breeze, and ealls 
them It) the held of hattle. and to ilie on "honor's loftv 
bed." 



MADAME LE \'K\n\ 

\s the author of "Souvenirs of Travel," Madame Le 
Vert, the subjeet of this essay, has elaini to literary notiee 
and distinction in the realm of letters. Perhaps no species 
of literature is more fascinatinj^- to the mind than that 
wliicit k'lls llie story of Iravel in l'orei,u'n lands with a de- 
scription of the scenery, manm-rs, customs, laws, science, 
arts and governments of the people. It is delij^htful with 
book in hand to follow the tom-ist as with his pen he 
sketches and unfolds in beautiful panorama ilie moimtain in 
its i;randeur, tbe valley with its verdure, the lake with its 
shimmerini;- sheen and the river in its majestic flow; or 
leavino^ the sequestered scenes ol' uatiu'c with its haunts of 
■echoins;' i;lory, he plants us in tbe marts ami lhoroui;iifares 
■of towns and cities amidst a new and stranj^c civilization 
with its ever-sbiftiui;' throno- of faces and actors, that jiar- 
lake of tbe fantasy of a dream. 

Not every one has written or can write an interesting- 
book of travels. It nmst be more than a record of jour- 
neys or the recital of objects seen. The true tourist nuist 
be one who loves nature and has an eye observant of all 
its charms and phases, and who with ])hilosophic mind scans 
all the features and ciMiditions of mornl and social life. The 
W(M-ld has produced some famous travelers. Anion-;' tbe 
lirst on record may be mentioned Herodotus, a Greek, 
who livetl in the liftb century before Christ. He 
journeyed throus;b F.s^ypt and the cmmtries of Asia, and 
wrote his observations of the mamiers, customs and laws 
of the nations tbat lu visited, and compiled them in nine 
volumes, named after tbe nine Muses. His style is so easy 
and "•raceful tbat it is said oi bini that be borrowed his 
laiie'uasje from tlu' Muses, llis work is extant, and tlunie'h 



Madami-: lyiv Vi'.K'r. i'')5 

his iianativrs liavc the air of romaiu-c. vol they dispkiy the 
intclhgviuT of a shrewd ohscrvcr, and arc (.-onsidercd to 
be of niealcLdahle vahie as she(hhii,t;- h.uht upon that era of 
the workl. i'olyhiiis, a Greek, next appears, lie Hved in 
the second century hefore C"ln-ist. and at the time when 
Rome was l)y the siihju,t;-ati()n of (Ireece ])reparin); for tlie 
ac(iuisiti()n of universal empire, lie traveled extensively 
and visited all comitries then known and accessihle. 1 lis 
work is hi,L;hlv esteemed hy scholars. Marco Tolo of the 
fifteenth century. I -e Hue and P.ayard Taylor of tlie i)rcscnt 
aj^e and manv others have adcU'd valnahle hooks of travel to 

the list. 

This review of hooks of travel shows this class of litera- 
ture is not worthless and ephenu'ral. It sustains Madame 
Le Vert's claim and title to an honoiahle pkice in literature 
as the author of "Souvenirs of Travel." There are cir- 
cumstances connected with her writing- the hook that add 
honor and luster to her name. It was at an era when at 
the South there were hut few names in Hteratin-e. When 
hi-r ])ook canu- forth hefore the ])uhlic, it a])peared in soli- 
tary ])eautv like the star that opens tlu- ^ates of morn- 
infj. She 'resided at Mohile, Aka. She made a trip to 
lun-ope, and the "Souvenirs of Travel" is the record of lu-r 
ohservations and rellections upon what she saw and heard, 
with the various inci<lents of travel. She was distin.i^uished 
for her versatility of mind and literary taste, and these 
qualities ^ive ^low and interest and value to her descri])- 
tions. 

/\t that i)eriod k'-urope was the ,ureat resort of /Xmerieaii 
tourists. It was the old world which had heeii for \\\rvc 
thousand years the theater of .q-rand events in llu' history 
of the human race. There were the arts of civilization, 
the towns and cities, towers and palaces, hoar with anticpiity 
and glorious with renown. It was to tlu' iidiahitants of the 
new world the home of their ancestors. There was Italy 
with its arts of nuisic, paintiui^- and seul])tm-i\ with every 
foot of its soil hallowed hy heroic deeds and n>ij;hty mem- 
ories. There, too, was Rome, still in its fame the impe- 
rial city to the world after a kapse of nearly thirty centuries. 
This was to MacUuiie Le Vert, the field of travel and re- 



l66 SOUTIIKRN LiTKRATURK. 

search from which, with licr graceful and ctiUiired intellect, 
she gathered the descriptions and observations of men and 
things presented in "Le Souvenirs." 

Not only as a writer, but also for her attainments as a 
linguist does this gifted daughter of the South deserve 
literary notice. A taste and genius for the study and cul- 
ture of modern languages was a marked feature of her ver- 
satile intellect. These perhaps were fostered by her resi- 
dence in foreign lands. Traveling to Italy and sojourning 
in that land of the orange and the grape, overarched by its 
beautiful blue skies, living in the midst of all in art that 
could inspire the mind and having the Italian falling upon 
her ear in accents soft as the notes of the lute, she could 
but desire a knowledge of the language. Residing in Paris 
and hearing the ]*"rench spoken by the polished circle of 
that city, she would be charmed with the grace and deli- 
cacy of that tongue which has given it precedence at the 
courts of Europe as the medinm of diplomatic intercourse, 
and be incited to learn it. And so with the Spanish, which 
in the Castilian, the classic dialect of the nation, pleases 
with its soft lingering cadences and stmorous majesty. 

The studv of these Romance languages was an object of 
special pursuit with Madame Le Vert, and in her "Sou- 
venirs of Travel" she urges the study of them upon all per- 
sons of literary taste. She speaks of the learning of them 
as being of easy attainment and largely repaying the scholar 
for his toil by opening up to him new fields of thought and 
modes of expression. At the time Madame Le Vert wrote 
the schools aiul colleges in the land were in their infancy, 
and ]<>ench was the only modern foreign language studied, 
and that merely as ornamental. In the last few years the 
tendency has been in the educational world to eliminate 
even the study of Latin and Clreck from the curriculums 
of Ihe .'■.chools, on acccnuU of the marvelous development 
of the JMiglish language in its vocabulary and the increase 
of its capacities and its wide dilTusion making it, as it were, 
cosmopolitan. 

The study of foreign tongues should be promoted, not 
for the sake of pedantry, but for the solid benefit it renders 
to scholarshii). It affords fine training for the mind and 



Madame Le Vert. 167 

'Contributes l.ar_f^ely to the culture of voice and capacity of 
■expression. The oral readin^^ of Latin and Greek, not 
according to the curt rules of English pronunciation, but 
with the musical flow of then- ancient vocal sounds, will 
add to the charm and beauty of speech. There will be a 
soft abrasion of the angular points of many words in the 
English with those who have the privilege of such training. 

Tt is said of Emerson, the oracle in letters to New Eng- 
land, that he would not read a book written in any language 
save the English. He considered the labor bestowed in 
translation from a foreign tongue a waste of time. "The 
intellect," says Aristotle, " is perfected, not by knowledge, 
l)ut by activity"; likewise in another passage, "The arts 
and sciences are powers, but every power exists only for 
the sake of action ; the end of philosophy, therefore, is not 
knowledge." 

"If," says Malebranche, "I held truth captive in my 
hand, I should open my hand and let it fly, in ordfcr that I 
might pursue and capture it." The toil and delight of the 
mind in the study of the languages find a happy illustra- 
tion in the labors of the bee that gathers pollen from the 
•opening flowers rather than feed upon the honey already 
stored up in the cells of the hive. 

So far as English-speaking people are concerned, the 
study of their own language is a matter of prime impor- 
tance. It is their vernacular tongue, and in view of its 
grace, majesty, opulence of synonyms and vast literary 
wealth, it may be called the royal language. It is rich in 
all the elements of speech necessary to express sublime 
thought or tender emotion, with every note of modulation, 
from "the thunders of the epic muse to the melting accents 
of the lyre." 

Award to her the medal of the traveler and wreath of 
:the scholar. 



ESSAYS AND ADDRESSES. 



MY FIRST SCHOOLMASTER. AND EARLY 
SCHOOL DAYS. 

CHAPTER I. 

A dream wafts me back to my childhood. I shake my 
gray head, and with wonder and dehght ponder how it 
comes that its pictures visit me, which it seems would long 
ago have been forgotten. As clear as pebbles in the limpid 
brook the incidents and scenes of that period of life ap- 
pear mirrored forth upon the tiny stream of its memories, 
as if it were but yesterday I dreamed myself back to child- 
hood. Vividly comes up in mind the important epoch of 
that era, the beginning of my school days, and my first 
schoolmaster. To me, as to every one, it marked the dawn 
of my conscious intellectual being and individuality. Up ta 
that time, as with all children, vague and indefinite were all 
my mental acts, and these were confined to the demands of 
my physical wants and functions. 

This beginning and excerpt of my school life was over 
sixty years ago. It was among the red hills of Middle 
Georgia, where the skies are bluer, the air sweeter, and the 
flowers brighter to me than in all other lands ; for there 
mj'- eyes first opened upon the light; there was the scene 
of my boyhood and of the riper years of my manhood, with 
all their endearing associations, and there, in its sacred 
soil, repose the ashes of my father and mother and other 
kindred. 

The old familiar schoolhouse, the humble, red-painted 
building, where I learned my letters and began the ascent 
of the ancient hill of knowledge, rises up as clear and 
vivid as when viewed in the first fresh hours of childhood. 
I see the chimnev. one at each end of the long structure. 



170 ICSSAVS AND ADDRKSSKS. 

T sec the two doors in front and the s'lass sash of the two 
windows hcyond which I sat and with 1)oyish (hHgence 
and anxions heart conned my lessons for the lioin-. I 
scan ai;ain (he inside of the schooh-ooni, with its l(»n.t;' 
writinj;--desks fastened to tlir walls of llie hnildini^, and 
the long henches in the rear of them, each with its row of 
pupils facing- the wall. There, too, still stands at the front 
the larqe post-oak with its scarred tnnik and tortuous 
stem, seated under whii'Ii oft I took my repast at noon. 
There also apjiears the s])rin_i;- that received its crystal wa- 
ters from the hillside, with the chin(|napiu [vvc overshad- 
owint;' it, as when till with ni\' playmates 1 loitered there 
with hoyish dalliance. 

There, 1 si'i' hai'il 1)\- the old fashioned mt-etin^-house, 
lar.y'e and commodious, which Methodism, in its hold and 
])ioneerin<;- spirit of i)lantini;' the ( iospt'l, had reared in the 
early settlement of the country. 1 enter the door of this 
huildini;' and hchold the venerahle ministers of God in the 
pulpit. I a,L;ain hear the ( iospel in soothinf^ strains of the 
old lime ipreachers, and 1 dcvoutlv ])raise Clod that T re- 
ceived into my youns.;' lu-art the story of salvatiou through 
a crucilied RedetMUcr that fi'll from their li])s, and having 
reali/A'il its di\iui' powei' in after years, the religion of 
Christ has heen my stay and comfort through the lapse 
<vf a long life, and, now when earthly ho])es are waning, 
dispenses joy and ]K\ace. 

There adjact^nt also is the solenm grawyard, where 
.after life's lit ful fi'\er w;is o\'er the first white settlers of 
the soil were laid to sleep. Its somher jiageanti'v and 
memorials of human morlalit\- are well rememhered, \et 
they did not check Ihi' sports and merrv shouts of the 
roystering young spirits Ih.it g.athered at noon on the ])lav- < 
ground near, nor disturh their <lay-dreams of life and 
hope and joN' in the years to conu\ 

There comes up the recollection of the still lonelini\ss 
of the localitv of that schoolhouse. Thei'c was no heauty 
of grove or laudscaipe to t-harm the e\e, nor huiiian hah- 
itation with its enlivening sights and sounds of rural in- 
dustry to animate the nn'nd. The founders of this school 
gave it the name ni I'ranklin Academy. It was called af- 



Mv Imrs'i' vSciiooi.MAS'i'i'.R. 171 

tcr tlic American saj^v, the stali'siiiaii of ri'volulionary 
I'anic, ami the pliilosoplicr, who drew down from tlie sky 
the Proinelliean si)ark of electricity, wiiose aj^ency and ex- 
l)loits in the arts have rendered niarvelons tlie civilization 
<»r tlu! present century. And Aeadcniy, so called from llie 
olive garden in the suburhs of ancient Athens, where, amid 
the marble glories of art and the play of foimtains, Plato 
taught and discoursed to liis disciples so sweetly of the 
immortality of the soul, that it was said upon his lips had 
settled the prognostic swarm of bees. 

lU'fort' the mind pass in retrospection (he throngs of 
boys and girls, young men and young ladii's, who, as 
pupils, allended the Academy. The counlenance of each 
one, the words, actions and incidents with which they sev- 
erally were connected, a])pear clear and distinct as in the 
<laily association of that shifting drama of four years of 
school life. Sweet and pleasant is the heart's recollection 
of them. At this long distance of time, memory recalls no 
despicable traits of character among thi'm. Those were 
the days oi re])ul)lican sim])licity of manners and of home- 
si)un dress. Nobleand manly were the bosoms that throbbed 
beneath the co])peras roundabout or the jeans coat of home- 
made cloth. The faces tliat peered from imder lly-l)onnets 
were as sweet and fair as the buds .and blossoms of the 
rose as they pi'cp oiU from their green hoods in sum- 
mer. 

After sixty years Ibi' heart still tlu'obs responsivi' to the 
ties of attachment to the schoolmates of that happy ])eriod. 
It holds them all in cherished remembrance. The career in 
life of many of them is not known; over some fate soon 
dropped its curtain; others were the loved associates of 
my manhood da\s; a few of them still remain. All rise 
U]) in memory from that siumy spot of childhood in the 
luminous lia/A' of spiritual vision, and fondly does the 
heart cherish the hope and anticipation of meeting them in 
the land of God. 



172 KSSAVS AND AdDRI'.SSI'.S. 



OIIAITIOU II. 

Ill till- forcfroiit, and the ci'iilial I'lj^uro in llu- pirlnrc oi 
this (hx-am of my cliiUlhood days, is the master or teacher. 
lie rises up in memory as ho was then, the same tidy and 
ever well-dressed person, of less than medium height, 
form slender, lithe and well-knit, connplexion fair and' 
Mush, eyes hlue. full and luiiiiiKHis, hair glossy hhuk, with 
locks smooth and comhed to the front over the cars, hands- 
fair and soft, and finger-nails of extreme whiteness, al- 
ways kept shar])ene(l to a point. There was never a speck 
to he seen on his clothes. 

lie was an Irishman, and his name was Christopher 
Flanagan. It was said of him that he was educated for 
the oflice of a Roman ("atholic prii'st. lie liad conu" to 
America, and for some reason had drifted to the South 
to engage in teaching school, lie had the reputation of 
being a line st-liolar and expert in the management of 
youth. I le was a rigid disciplinarian. There was no 
coaxing or pt-rsnading of pupils to ])roipi'r hcliavior or to 
the learning of lessons. The command was given and 
the rod was employed to enforce ohedience. True lo his 
Irish nature, he was hland in disposition, and spoke in a 
.smooth and easy tone of voice. 

lie did not always punish with a switch, but sometimes 
with strokes of ferule in the hand, or with his sharpened 
iMiger-nails pinched and then boxed the ears of the cul- 
prit. These ukmIcs of punishment iullicfcd on his discip- 
line till- st'gma of cruelty and tyranny. To his credit it 
may be said that when be inflicted 'punishment upon a 
])U]m1, be did not seem to be promjited to it by a morose 
and irritable temi)er (as many teachers arc), or callous 
sensibilities, or for tlu' love he bore to learning, but from 
a >enst> of bis obligation as teacher to make tlu' ])Upils 
learn their lessons and to (tbscrvc g(^o(l belia\M()r lie ac- 
ciuired reputatiiui as a hkkIi'I tt'acher, and taught not only 
in Georgia, but also for many years in Alabama. Tlu-re 
arc still living in both Slates some of his pupils, luuv quite 



My First vSchoolmas'i'I'-.r. 173 

^gcd, who rciiK-mbcf liim and will rca.l this skclch with 

interest. , 

Twenty years after this period of his schoolboy Hie and 
its incidents had passed far hack into memory the wnlcr 
of this article was traveling on the train from l^alnanue 
to Macon, Ga. When ^i:ii\uii: off at Atlanta to chan^-e 
cars amon^^ the passenj^an'S on board that came throngmj^^ 
out, 'his attention was attracted to one of them who was 
quite tidily dressed. As if by intuition, the thouf^ht came 
in mind that this person was his old school-teacher. As 
he walked into a restaurant near by and came midrr llie 
lamplight (it l)eing: then 12 o'clock at ni.i-ht), and glanced 
up from the shadow of his hat brim, the ficrci' blue eyes 
and the low em])hasis of voice in which he spoke con- 
firmed the fact of his identity. 

The writer, approaching him in a courteous manner, 
inquired his name, lie replied, "My name is C"hristopher 
Flanagan." The respon.se from the writer was, "I am 
glad to see you, Mr. hdanagan ; you are my old teacher." 
"But who are yon," said he. The answi'r was "b.lm 
Greene." "Ah! John, T know you by your voice," was his 
reply. The writer again said, "Mr. Managan, I have for 
a long time desired to meet with you." "I don't know 
why, John; I used to Hog you sharply," he rejoined. 
"That's all forgotten now, Mr. l-'lanagan." 

This meeting with his old teacher and the interview 
of two or three hours that followed were to the writer a 
pleasing incident. In the ha])py constitution of things 
time had effaced from memory the sharpness of the .smi- 
dry taps and strokes of the feride and switch, and now in 
the light of thoughtful manhood and his own experience 
as a teacher for i^everal years, he 'could survey the ])re- 
ceptor of his first school days. The im])ortant service ren- 
dered and the high and delicate relations sustained seem 
to have established it as a fixed princi])le and sentiment 
of society, that there should exist strong bonds of attach- 
ment between preceptor and pupil. It is said that the an- 
cient Athenians regarded their obligations to Corridas, 
who had taught their king 'Hieseus the ways of virtue 
and truth, to be so great, that they yearly sacrificed a 



174 Essays and Addresses. 

ram to his manes. Philip, king of Macedon, congratulated 
himself that he lived in the same age with Aristotle, as 
if he had a prevision of the suhlime career of his heroic 
son, and that the training he received from this eminent 
philosopher would prepare him for it. 

Over sixty years have passed since that hour in child- 
hood when the writer of this article first stood by his 
old master's side with Webster's blue-back spelling-book in 
hand, and, as portrayed in frontispiece, for him to guide 
his young feet up the steps into the temple of Knowledge. 
Now, in the twilight of age, as in lonely thought he stands 
by the mound that covers the moldering dust of the 
teacher of his boyhood, in the spirit of gratitude he would 
render just and noble tribute to his memory. Peace be 
to his ashes, and may perpetual spring breathe into his 
urn and the early crocus crown it with clusters of its 
golden blossoms. 

CHAPTER III. 

At the epoch mentioned in this sketch (1836 A.D.), 
Georgia was in the first stages of its progress and devel- 
opment as a State. On account of the sparsity of its pop- 
ulation, schools were few, and these were confined to towns 
and thickly settled communities. Teachers were scarce, 
and these were principally foreigners or from New Eng- 
land, who came South to enlighten the land or a penny turn. 
Their foreign birth and manners placed them at an unso- 
ciable distance to the youthful throng they were to teach. 
Their reputed learning and the discipline they exercised 
rendered their persons and presence dread and august to 
their pupils. 

The rig(M-ous extent to which some of them carried 
their discipline and exactions in the work of the school- 
room rendered them grim ogres instead of genial guides 
to young and timid minds in the walks of learning. This 
should not be the case. That the great ends of educa- 
tion may be happily accomplished, it is highly important 
that the association of the teacher and ipupils, as far as 
possible, should be congenial and delightful. It should ac- 



My First Schoolmaster. 175 

cord with the picture tliat the Latin poet I'ersius j^-ivcs 
of his school Hfe and experience in a [)oeni adch-essed to 
Annccus Cornutus, his preceptor. In expression of his 
gratitude and affection, he says to this teacher of his 
youth, "O, sweet friend, it deHghts me to show to thee 
how great thy part may be of my soul. In the period of 
youth when the path is uncertain, and error ignorant of 
life divides the trembling thoughts in the branching cross- 
ways, thou receivest me into thy Socratic bosom. The 
example apposite to my manners, skillful to lead imper- 
ceptibly, shows to me my faults ; and the mind as pressed 
by reason, yields to be overcome, and draws the artist a•^d 
his lineaments to thy molding touch. For I remember 
to consume long days with thee and to spend the first 
hours of the night with thee in philosophical conversation, 
away from the banquet table." 

The office of the school-teacher is highly responsible 
and sacred. He stands as preceptor to his pupils in loco 
parentis sancti. In his work and the results of it in train- 
ing the mind and molding the character of the young, he 
has been compared to the sculptor in the quarry, who with 
chisel shapes and carves the inanimate marble into sym- 
metry and beauty of life; or to the potter, with his revolv- 
ing wheel and deft fingers, who fashions from the plastic 
clay the Etruscan vase. This strong and figurative lan- 
guage and the illustrations given hardly exceed the fact 
of the potency of the influence and the impression that 
the teacher makes upon pliant child-nature. 

There are thousands of persons, no doubt, who bear in 
their own consciousness and ex])ericnce ample test of the 
power for good or evil the teacher exerts upon his pupils. 
This, not only in the direct work of instruction from text- 
books, but also from the unconscious tuition that flows 
from his ways, manners and personal traits of character. 
The writer of this sketch recalls to mind the unfortunate 
bias that the discipline of his childhood's teacher gave to 
his own notions of school government in after years, and 
he would gladly have the retrospect effaced from his mem- 
ory. Parents should be careful in selecting guides and 
preceptors for their children in the work of mental train- 



I'jG Essays and Addrk.ssrs. 

iui;- and lik'r.'iry culliirc. They should bo unvvilHnjr to 
■dclc^-aU' Ihc liij^h and dcHcate duties of these offices to 
any one whose trails of character and personality they 
would not be willing to have transferred to their own chil- 
dren. 

At that (lay the school life of the child usually began at 
<_Mght to ten years of age, as custom in the ])ast had fixed, 
if no obstacles interj)osed. 'J'here arc those who hold 
against this early in\asion of childhood with the cold and 
harsh demands and tasks of mental toil and physical con- 
hnemcnt. They maintain that it should be a ])eriod sacred 
to innocent .si])orts and childish joys, and that its hours 
should be counted on a dial woven oi llowers. There is, 
and always has been, a disposition and tendency on the 
part of parents and teachers to ]>ress the infant mind too 
early into the artiticial realm of letters. An article from 
the pen of Mrs. ((ieueral) Lew Wallace, titled "Mur- 
<lered Innocents." condenming such a theory and practice, 
was published some months ago, and met with a conspicu- 
ous display anil hearty indorsejnent from the press. 

The work of training a child should begin with the 
<lawn of intellect and the pDwer of siieech upon the tongue. 
The mind and spiritual alTections are at rote (tireless) and 
instinct with divine energy. The\ nnist {{:<:([ upon the 
•dregs of passion or the pure spirit of knowledge. Ihe 
butlerdy may Hit from llower to llower and feed upon 
bloom-dust and sunshine as its existence is ephemeral. 
Man as a moral and sentient ])eing has higher duties to 
perform and nobler gratiiicalion to seek than the exercise 
of his animal functions. It is not necessary that child- 
nu'nds should engage in the mechanical routine of learn- 
ing the letters of the al]ihabet and the sounds they rc])- 
resent, and the combination of them into syllables and 
words, in order to ac(|uire knowledge that will enlighten 
and beautify the soul. Vov this period of intellectual cid- 
lure and de\-elopment, there is a volume open to those of 
tender age, apiposite, bi'aiUiful and attractive in the world 
of nature. 

Tlic Divine CreattU" in the wisdom and goodness that 
mark tiie wc^irks of llis hand has provided in tlie blue skv 



MV I'iRST SCIIOOI.MASTI'.R. I77 

above willi its sliiniiii;' liosls of stars, and the cartli bclmv 
with its llowcrs and varit'd fdrnis of animal and insect 
life, a kindcri^arlcn grand and spacious in rich provi- 
sion for the instruction, training and guidance of the young 
immortals of the race. Not only this; but He has crowned 
this benciiiceneo with the hii|)pj ar)'anjj;'eni(Mit that the 
mother in the fullness of her love becomes the teacher and 
guide to the infant minds in the task of instruction. It is 
her high and holy duty to teach them the existence of 
God and to lisp liis eternal nrune. She can unfold to them 
His goodness in the tints of the rose and the fragrance of 
the lily. . With their growing intelligence, she can lead 
them out at night under tlie sky, ])oint to it, as the Great 
Book that God holds in His hand, upon whose azure 
ground their eyes may trace written in the burning hiero- 
glyphics of the stars the words "God is love." The mother 
sits at the fountain of being, and to the young life as to a 
rivulet, gives direction and opens up the channel in which, 
.as the full stream, it is to flow in after years. 

ClIAPTKU IV. 

The mother, in her capacity as the first instructor of 
the young immortal mind, can do an important work of 
culture in training her offspring to correct speech. This is 
a valuable and beautiful attainment. None, perhaps, sur- 
passes it in literary excellence. Language is said to be 
the gift of the gods. It gives the human race its high 
place in the scale of creation. The language of a nation 
is its life and heart, and the index of its degree of enlight- 
enment. The mother begins her task with the lisping ac- 
cents of the cradle. The tones of her voice and the words 
of her lips will be the models to the infant being that nes- 
tles upon her bosom, and with its coy look into her face 
drinks in the inspiration of love. Let tlie law of kind- 
ness dwell in her tongue and the grace and beauty of 
speech upon her lips in daily intercourse through the 
years of childhood, and she will lead the yomig sipirit to 
the acqtu'sition of language sweet, chaste and dignified, 
that will be to its life a charm and blessing. 

12 si 



178 Essays and Addrksses. 

The family, the church and the state arc three ordained 
cihicators in the provision that God has designed for the 
training and guidance of the human race as moral and 
sentient beings. Each of these has its respective sphere of 
work and iniiuence. The church and state constitute what 
may be termed society, and in their force and etTect upon 
the rising generation often prove greater than parentage. 
"Young men," said a wise Caliph of yVrabia, "are more 
like the age they live in than they are like their fathers." 
This is a profound social maxim, and on careful reflection- 
will be found to be true. 

The family may be considered as the corner-stone of the 
social fabric. The general characteristics and features of 
the household at the period in the history of Georgia 
mentioned in this sketch, is worthy of thoughtful consid- 
eration, in view of its iniiuence as an educator. It may be 
said of parental government, that it was patriarchal in its 
simplicity and authority. To command was the revered 
prerogative of the parent, to obey the sacred dut);^ of the 
child. The father, as the husband or the band of the house, 
both by precept and example incited and encouraged his. 
sons to habits of industry and economy. The mother in 
her matronly office l)eauti fully exemplified the scriptural 
l)attern of a virtuous woman. She laid her hands to the 
spindle and distail ; provided her family with clothing; 
opened her mouth with wisdom and looked well to the 
ways of her household that they eat not the bread of idle- 
ness. 

The responsibility and duty of parents to provide for 
the moral and mental training of their children were fully 
recognized and appreciated. The era of childhood was 
not permitted to pass in void and idle sports, but little 
duties suited to their capacity were required at home of 
children. The period of boyhood and girlhood, the pro- 
pitious vernal season of life in which the parental hand 
should sow in the young hearts and minds the seeds of 
truth and virtue, was also utilized to the full extent of its 
])recious opportunity and to nature's prescribed boundary 
of manhood and womanhood. 

Schools were regarded as absolutely necessary to the 



My r^iKS'r Scii()()i.mas'i*1';r, 179 

acodinplislinuMil of tlic work of f I'aitiinj^. Children were 
started to sclu)ol as early as circutustanccs would per- 
mit. They were taiii,dit to appreciate the advantajj^es of 
an education and to improve their time at schof)l. There 
was no provision made hy the State for puhlic schools, it 
was considered to be the natnral preroj^ativc and inalien- 
able duty of parents to jjrovide for the schoolinfj^ of their 
own children, it became them as fathers of their house- 
holds, and in their manly independence and sovcreit^n capac- 
ity as citizens of the republic, lo do Ibis. 

The home culture dispensed was a fit su])plement to 
complete their education and ])repare the youuf;' for life's 
duties. The sons of (be mrand yeomam-y of that period, 
whether of patrician or iplebeian, slave-holding' or non- 
slave-holding class, i^rew up with steady habits and fixed 
plans in life. To them life was no unsubstartial pap^cant 
tided with dreams of wealth to be obtained by stroke of for- 
tiuie, but it was to them real, earnest, stronj^, and laborinj^ 
and wailinj;', they realized that choicest boon of earthly hap- 
piness, the si)irit of contentment. 

The daughters, though oftentimes relmMiing home from 
fashionable boarding-schools, went quietly to the loom and 
spinning-wheel, and finished up their education by becom- 
ing initiated into the domestic crafts of weaving, making 
bed-c|uills and acc|m'ring knowledge of the culinary art. 
Thus the}' (illecl up the sweet dream of womanhood inter- 
vening between the closing of their schoolgirl life and the 
eventful hour of marriage with occui)ations that gave useful 
employment to the nn'nd and salutary exercise to the bodv. 

The family libraries of the land were small in that rare 
day of printing, but they oftentimes contained some of the 
choice works of English literature. In them might Ix; 
found Milton, Cowper, Young, and others of the divine 
j)oets of the English tongue. These were studied, ami 
hcl])cd to form the literary taste of the household. The 
rambler among the old family libraries will now and tln-n 
find an anticpie vohune that vas published in England, 
whose chaste and classic binding will delight the eye, and 
the treasured thougbls within will be to the tnind like the 
rich draughts from an (jld mellow cask of wine tc; the taste. 



l8o KSSAYS AND Al)DRl>;SSl';S. 

Now amidst the years of time and the waniiip;- of his 
earthly life does the writer of this .sketch rejoice to do 
honor and reverence to the memory of iiis parents, who, in 
their parental love and devotion, ])rovided and even made 
sacrilice to give to liieir live sons and four daughters the 
full educational advantages of those times. This they did 
even at the risk of sneers and hting called proud and pa- 
trician in tlieir views and plans for their children in life. 
I ie would i)ause to render trihute of hlial gratitude to that 
father whose family i)ride and deep love for his ehildren 
prompted him to make them worthy of that ancestral line 
th.it ccinld proudly point to eight nuinhiTs of it from the 
"OKI J)ominion State" that served in the Jvevolutionary 
war (one of them heing his father), and three of them be- 
ing color-hearers. Now, after twenty-hve years since his 
decease, does he rise uj) to mind as he was in the meridian 
of his days, a man of massive frame, strong, native intel- 
lect, lofty integrity of character, a devout Christian, with 
heart and hand o])en to charity as the sun. 

A half century has not effaced from mind the features of 
a sainted mother, hut has dee])ened them, "as streams their 
channels deeper wear." She, too, was devoted to her chil- 
<lreu and labored zealously for their moral and intellectual 
welfare in her meek and ([uiet way. She, too, was proud 
of her maiden name Wyche. as having noble record in 
southern Georgia. All tlie \irtues and charms that are en- 
(K'aring in a mother she ])ossessed, and memory now recalls, 
her in all her living grace as she moved in tlie household, 
its guardian spirit, singing with glad heart the songs of 
Zion, and with melody of vcnce "as sweet as an angel's 
lute." 

It was from the hand of an elder brother that the writer 
in his boyhood, received the greatest literary help and 
inspiration. It was he, when verging on manhootl, that 
served as pedagogus to conduct the little brother, then a 
child, into the presence of the schoolmaster memorialized 
in this i)iece, and imder wluxse sheltering arm and protect- 
ing love he felt secure from all harm. This beloved brother 
returning home as a graduate from the University of Geor- 
gia, in all the charms and grace of manly beauty and col- 



My First Schooi.master. i8i 

leg-iate honor, and with a hbrary of the works of the mas- 
ters of Enghsh literature, still cherished his interest in that 
l)oy-brother, and brought him the "Arabian Nights" and 
"Tales of a Grandfather." These books read, were the 
"Sesame" to open the gates of knowledge to the dreaming 
boy and awaken in his heart the love of reading. It was he 
who in his deep fraternal affection conceived that he dis- 
covered the marks of genius in the young bookworm and 
forecast for him literary distinction. 

Many years have passed since then. The fond hopes 
which that elder brother entertained of him he loved so 
well, and to whom he opened up the perennial joys of cul- 
tured mind, may not have been realized. The modest re- 
pute of the scholar only has been attained, but no proud 
title won, yet to the memory of that brother to whom he 
owes so much would the writer render the tenderest trib- 
ute that love can pay, and in proud eulogy record his vir- 
tues and his deeds. 

CHAPTER V. 

The church, as the pillar and groundwork of revealed 
truth or Christianity, as an educator can not be fully esti- 
mated. In and through it the Gospel as the wisdom and 
power of God operates in the ministry of the Word as its 
chief ordinance, to destroy the effects of sin and restore 
mankind to the divine image. The truths dispensed and 
the spiritual aid vouchsafed accompany them, afford gui- 
dance and support, relieve the disabilities of man's fallen 
nature and uplift to a high plane of moral and intellectual 
being. In the teaching of Christ its membership are styled 
the salt of the earth and the light of the world in emblem- 
atic significance of the conservative moral power and en- 
lightening iniluence the church would exert upon society. 
The atonement of Christ, the great central fact of Chris- 
tianity, as the sublime exhibition of the love of God and the 
mediatorial provision He has made for the salvation of 
the race, presents the strongest incentives to virtue and 
piety. The doctrine of immortality as taught, received and 
established in the Gospel, sheds more light and joy upon 



1 82 Essays and Addresses. 

the moral scene of human Hfe than all the converging rays 
from the schools of philosophy, as conveyed in the mystic 
theories of Pythagoras, the wise reasonings of Socrates, 
or the fascinating dreams of Plato. The purity of its doc- 
trines and the living piety of its members determine the 
efficiency and the moral power of the church as an educator. 

It may be said of the general church, and especially of 
the Methodist F.piscopal Church of that era (1836 to 1844), 
in Georgia, that its type and status were such as to invest it 
with spiritual power and influence upon the society of the 
newly born republic. The Gospel of Christ was preached 
by the ministry of the M. E. Church in the simplicity of its 
doctrines of grace and truth. There were no dull, dead 
ceremonial observances to encumber its spirituality ; no 
dark, gloomy creed of Calvinism to overshadow the glory 
of its full atonement ; no profane immoralities of its clergy 
to impugn its divine verity. As the American poet has 
written, "Plere (in this land) the free spirit of man had 
thrown ofT its last fetter." It had burst the bonds of Brit- 
ish rule and of the ecclesiastical tyranny that had en- 
thralled Europe for centuries. Freedom of opinion and the 
right to worship God according to the dictates of conscience 
were secured by the Constitution of the nation formed of 
the sisterhood of republics. The people received the Gos- 
pel as the Word of God, in much assurance and power. 
They attended reverently upon the ordinances of public 
worship. Altars of prayer were reared in the Christian 
home, and "kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, the 
saint, the father, and the husband prayed'' at night and 
morning. The corner-stone of religion was in the house- 
hold. 

The State as an educator serves to enlighten and qualify 
for the duties and obligations of citizenship. Georgia was 
then in its pristine state as a newly forrhed republic. For 
over a half century the people, emanciipated from the sov- 
ereignty of Great I'ritain, had exercised the sacred rights of 
freemen, and had learned to love and appreciate their liberty 
amidst the unchecked freedom of the wilderness and of 
pioneer life. Their hearts burned with pure and patriotic 
love of country. No bitter sectional persecution of aboli- 



My First Schoolmaster. 183 

tionists and freesoilers at the north ; no- civil war with its 
sanguinary battles and costly sacrifice of human lives; no 
years of political oppression and proscription of its rights in 
the union after the war had closed and a full amnesty 
pledged, had intervened to alienate the hearts of the people 
■of the South from the great Union and their common coun- 
try. The Fourth of July, as the anniversary of the Declara- 
tion of Independence and the birthday of the nation, was 
celebrated with joy, and the star-spangled banner, the em- 
blem of its glory, as it threw out its silken folds upon the 
breeze, was hailed with patriotic delight'. It may readily 
be assumed that such environments and influences as de- 
scribed, and with the Anglo-Saxon stock as the base, would 
form and develop the highest type of character. In this 
light the fathers and mothers, the manhood and woman- 
hood of that period, appeared to the writer in his youth and 
now through the intervening lapse of years. As recalled in 
the impressions of his boyhood or seen under the telescopic 
eye of memory, they may appear grander and nobler than 
they were, and relieved of the faults common to humanity. 
But like old Greek Nestor in speaking of the heroes of his 
early days, the writer thinks they were unequaled in the his- 
toric record of past generations and unexcelled by the en- 
lightened age of the present in the nobility of their person 
and''character. 

It may be estimated of them that in their parental office 
they would be wise preceptors and safe guardians of the 
young. Their examples of lofty integrity and Christian 
virtue were impressive models to youth. The tone and 
standard of moral and social sentiment they affixed and 
•gave to society encouraged virtue and restrained vice. All 
this was a grand factor in the educational agencies of that 
•day. The spirit of chivalry, as an attribute of Southern 
character, that has been the boast of the South and the 
source of spleen to the North, was also an educative ele- 
ment that had an ennobling effect. How and whence its 
•origin is an interesting subject of inquiry and speculation. 
It did not emanate from the titled and coroneted nobility of 
Europe in the colonial settlement of the country. Aloof 
ffrom the corrupting influences of the civilization of the old 



i84 Essays and Addresses. 

world and nurtured in the bosom of the wilderness amidst 
the j^randciu- and beauty of nature, and having the pride of 
family and heritage that exists in the humblest phase of life, 
the lirst settlers and their deseendants grew up, clad in man- 
hood's native honor. It was fostered in a large measure 
by the institution and existence of African slavery that then, 
existed in the South. Tliis was its effect in those sections- 
and in those families where it prevailed in its humane form 
of service. It exempted the Southern people from the 
hard and harsh demands of manual labor and employment. 
Not only this, but it furnished a system of labor which alone 
could open up those vast areas of fertile land that like sO' 
many cornucopias pfnu'ed their rich agriculliu'al wealth into 
the lap of the South. . 

The institution of slavery to jierform the menial drud- 
gery oi lite has entered into the social system and political 
fabric of every nation and people that attained eminence 
and excellence in the arts of civilized life. 1'he labor it 
l)erf()rmed and the leisure it secured produced for ancient 
(Ireece the Si)artan valor of her soldiers, the renown of her 
Athenian statesmen, and built for her the Acropolis with, 
its marble glories of art and the matchless beauty of its 
.I'atiln'iioii thai lias served as a momnnent to perpetuate the 
genius of her peo])le amidst the wasting years of time. It 
enabled ancient Rome to accomplish her sublime career of 
con(|uest and em])ire, and to span the ages with triumphal 
arch of fame in the moldering ruins of her colossal archi- 
tecture and the songs of her bards. 

CUAITER VI. 

The disci])!ine that prevailed in the schools of that period 
was strict, if not rigid. It had its basis and su])])ort in the 
robust spirit of the times, the firm character of ])arental' 
rule and the moral tone and liabits of the ]ieople. It, how- 
ever, varied with the personality of the teacher. The rod 
was the teacher's scepter of authority, and like the Romatr 
fasces, it girded his hand with power. The use of it was 
deemed essential in tlie schoolroom to correct ill humors, 
remove bad habiis and enforce wholesome moralitv among 



My First Sciiooi.mastkr, 185 

the pupils. A toug-h hickory switch, well-seasoned and 
well applied, was considered to have a powerful charm to- 
expel the evil spirit from a bad boy. Whilst the primi- 
tive infliction of the rod may sometimes be efificacious, yet 
it has often brought pain and bitterness to young hearts- 
whose school life should have been beautiful as a dream, 
and marred the hopes of a noble future. 

Some indulged the fancy that the rod was needed at 
times to stimulate the intellect of the pupil into vigorous 
activity, as if, like the fabled caduceus of Hermes, it could 
inspire genius in the soul at its touch, or as the flower-en- 
twined thyrsus of Bacchus awoke the blossoms when it 
smote the earth, so it would arouse the dormant faculties of 
the boy-mind. The notion was current from rude anti(|uity 
(hat boys must be flogged to make them learn. Juvenal, 
the Latin poet, relates that the grand Achilles of Trojan 
fame was (metuens virgse) fearing of the rod, when in his 
native mountains he was taught by Chiron, the Centaur, to- 
sing and iplay on the cithara. 

It may do to use the rod in the case of an incorrigibly 
lazy boy, but it is an unwise expedient to adopt it as a rule,, 
and contrary to the law of growth and development in the 
realm of nature. Kind words and earnest sympathv will' 
often unfold the hidden grace and powers of the budding- 
youthful intellect as the dews and sunshine in springtime 
the fragrance and blushing beauty of the rose, when harsh 
measures will fail. A blow upon the cheek is an insult to- 
the sacred dignity of a child. The smitings of the tongue 
are worse than the strokes of the rod. 

The curriculum of the schools of that day was confined 
to what was termed the branches of an English or coinmoni 
school education. It was embraced principally in the three 
"R's," as styled by Edward Everett, the American scholar. 
A knowledge of these, when well studied and "gone 
through" was considered as sufficient to prepare for the 
practical duties of life. When this course was finished 
jmpils usually quit school and entered at once upon their 
chosen avocation, which was generally farming or some 
mechanical trade. 

Latm and Greek were taught in the academy or high 



l86 IVSSAVS AND ADnUl'.SSI'.S. 

school, and sliulictl by those jjupils who had in view the 
profession of law or niedicine. The literary facilities of 
those days were few, but they were the more diligently used 
and applied in the work of intellectual culture. The motto 
was, that he nuist endure the toil itf ascent who would drink 
of the Pierian sprinj;- at the summit of the Parnassian hill. 
This enthusiasm largely iK'rvaded the hij^her or wealthier 
classes of societx-. I'^alhers were ambitious for their l)oys, 
and desired that tlicy should have a liberal education, as the 
new eouutr\-, witli its electi\'c form o{ ^owrument. opened 
a splendid arena to political as]iirations. To trim the mid- 
ni^lit lamp and to have the countenance paled with cast of 
lhou!;ht were re.i^arded as evidence of intellect ualit\-. 

The pride of intellect is not the sole i;lory of man. The 
warm affections of the heart, tlic lofty sensibilities of the 
soul, are of a diviner spirit, and add to the _<;race and dig'- 
nitv of his beinc;' and assimilate him to the ima^v of his 
Maker. There was no foruial s\stem for the study and 
culture of the moral and benevolent alTections, as reduced 
to a science in the text-books and incorporated in the course 
of school study. There w;is ample sco]ie for the develop- 
ment and exercise of them on a bij^h and beautiful scale in 
hcMue duties anil the kindl\' otliccs of nei,gbl)ors in the newly 
settled cotmtry. In the ci\ility and hospitality of the !^outh- 
ern home was nurtmed that delii^htful eh;uacler, "the i^en- 
tleman of the old scluiol," and that chivalry i^i character 
wdiich has been the boast and pride of the South. 

The earlv stas;'e of society and the condition oi the coun- 
trv were propitious to the culture of patriotism and the he- 
roic spirit in the yomij;'. The strug\i;le of the colonies for 
intlependcuce and the exents o\ the war of 1812 with (uwU 
Pritain were still fresh in all their romance, d;u"in<;- ;md 
j^lory in the minds of the ]ico]ile. Idie story of American 
valor and achievement as it lingered in tradition or fell 
from the lips of some aged veteran of those wars as told to 
the yoimi^- wouUl enkindle in their bosom the fervor of pa- 
triotism. There were books of history of those eras extant 
that vouth could read, \xhose 'pa.ces would inspire noble sen- 
timents. The writer remembers with what delisfht he read 



My First vSchooi.mastkk. 187 

tile life (if M.'iriim writlcn by VVccins, tlif ])r(tsi' lloiiUT of 
llic Ixi'volution. 

As prinlini;' was in its itifaiirv \\\v text-hooks of the 
sehools for that pi-riod were ft'w in niiniher. As tlie key 
and guifle into the ri'ahn of h'ttt'rs nia\' \)v mentioned Wcl)- 
ster's l)hie-hack speUint^-lxiok. It has not heen excelled 
in its adaptation as a tlnnnh-hook for the child. The crndc 
and silent frontisi)iece of the temple of knowledja^e with the 
f'lt^ures of the preceptor and pupil inii^ressed the child-mind, 
;ind, as it were, gave it a cordial greeting, l^indley Mm-- 
lay's English grammar, then vSmith's, was used. There lin 
i^ers in the mind of the writer a boyish love and reverence 
for Smith's grammar. Tliongh almost obsolete, it has its 
merits. Smiley 's arithmetic and Woodbridge's geography 
wvvv tlu- remaining te.xt-books chielly used. 

The coeducation of the si-xes was the prevailing feature 
of the schools of that epoch. This was rendered necessary 
by the sj^arsity of the population, and it was considered in 
the natural order of things that boys and girls should be 
associated in the work and duties of the schoolroom. The 
two sexes mingled in the home-circle from the cradle, and 
in the great ])roI)lem of earthly destiny they were to be 
united in the holy bonds of wedlock, and to share each with 
the other the joys and sorrows of life. They were of 
e(|ual mental capacity and should receive the same training. 
It was natiu'al that the enra])turing dream of love should 
till their young hearts; that the boys and girls should find 
the ideals of their fancy each in the other. The manners 
of the times favored this association of the twf) sexes in 
the schoolroom. 

'J'he gyninasimn for the physical training of the boys was 
the i)lavground, with the simple sports. The spontanenos 
hilarity of feeling and the muscular exercise they afforded 
were as enjoyable and salutary recreation as the more 
studii<l arts and games of the present day. Prison-base. 
hot-l)all. cat, hand-over, and roll-in-the-hole had their charm 
in turn as the youthful mood might vary. The .sport most 
fascinating was the game of town-ball, 'i'his would be 
attended with a disjjlay of buoyancy of spirit and loud 
huzzas that would make the welkin ring, and when the con- 



1 88 Essays and Addresses. 

test was close and the victory was won, loud would be the 
exultant shout. The teacher (Mr. Flanagan) was expert in 
knocking^ the ball and swi.ft of foot in running the rounds 
of the bases. He would now and then, with an under- 
handed lick, knock the ball skyward to a lofty height, to our 
gazing wonder and admiration. 

At this period of school life the sport of Indian warfare 
came in vogue. The martial ardor had been enkindled in 
our youthful bosoms by the spectacle of members of the 
Light Horse Company of Upson county in uniforms of 
blue, with dancing red plumes and stirring notes of bugle 
as they passed by the schoolhouse one morning in spring 
on their way to fight the Indians in Alabama, who had risen 
up to extirpate the white settlers. Of the troop of horse- 
men that greeted the vision of the writer of this sketch at 
that time (1836), a boy of eight years of age, from the win- 
dow where he sat ensconced behind his desk in the school- 
room, two of them, Thomas S. Sharman and James An- 
drews, were in their young manhood, and were students in 
the academy the preceding year. Their records then, and 
in the Civil War, Confederate service, as soldiers, and in 
the private walks of life down to a tranquil old age, render 
them worthy to receive amid the lonely depths of years 
the tribute of honor due to heroic valor and worth. 

In retrospect of the past the scenes of childhood come 
up before the mind as vividly as if they transpired but yes- 
terday, but faded from them is the rosy light that appareled 
all things with the glory and freshness of a dream. To 
the soul of the whilom schoolboy, they seem to set apart 
and to form a separate stage of existence. He turns away 
from them with cold and joyless heart, as there is to him no 
longer "splendor.in the grass and glory in the flower." 

This chapter ends the narrative of "My First School- 
master and Early School Days." The writer trusts that it 
has afforded pleasure and interest to the readers of the 
Advocate, and especially to those who may have been pupils 
of his first schoolm.aster, Christopher Flanagan. He has re- 
ceived a letter from one of them, an aged widow of Green- 
ville, Ala., who was a pupil at the same school and at 
the date mentioned in this sketch (1836-40). The reading 



The Prophet of the Confederacy. 189 

of the sketch, she writes, stirred up with touching pathos 
the memories of those school-days of which she still re- 
tains a vivid recollection. The thoughts and reflections 
upon the great theme of the training of the young gathered 
from the experience and observation of many years are 
worthy of the attention of parents and educators. 

In this sketch old age and childhood met and completed 
for the writer the magic circle of life. In memory he 
traveled over the long years of the past and in musing 
thought wandered among the scenes of his childhood. The 
events and associations of that period were but the remi- 
niscences of a dream. The spirit scattered flowers over what 
had passed into nothingness. There was no wish for time 
to turn backward in his flight and make the writer a child 
once more. As he looks over the roll of vanished years 
he feels how mighty it was to have been, and he wants no 
more to renew life's pilgrimage. The fleeting innocence 
of childhood, the withered hopes of manhood, and the 
vain regret of old age remind him that there is a state of 
Toeing for man where there is no past, no future, but one 
■eternal now. 

" That there is a tiine and there is a place, 
Beyond the skies, beyond the azure deep, 
Beyond the purple verge of infinite space, 
The immortal soul shall live." 



THE PROPHET OF THE CONFEDERACY. 

CHAPTER I. 

Whether war was considered as a possible event of se- 
cession, or after it was begun, hope burned high in every 
Southern bosom and made the future prophetic of victory 
and triumph to the South. Defeat and failure were not 
in the bright lexicon of the young Republic which they 
fondly conceived fate had designed for a noble nationality. 
It could not be otherwise construed by a fervent patriotism 
that throbbed in the heart of every man, woman and child 
but that the South would succeed. 



190 Essays and Addresses. 

The North, with its vast resources and superiority of 
its numhers in population, was a formidable enemy to 
cope with, but the war waged on the i)art of the Southern 
States was in the defense of their rights and their freedom. 
Such being the case, "thrice armed are they whose cause is 
just." In the sanguinary contest which ensued, it would 
be as the youthful David with his sling and with stones 
gathered from the brook against Goliath, the giant Philis- 
tine, encased in armor, and with a spear in size and weight 
like a weaver's beam. 

Then the Lord God was their strength and trust. He 
was the God of battles. He it is that breaketh the bow and 
cutteth the spear in sunder. The shields of the mighty 
belong unto God. In his great name they had set up their 
banner. Then throughout the Southland, in the mansions 
of the rich and in the cabins of the poor, aged fathers and 
mothers, wives and children were daily lifting up their 
hands in holy prayer unto God and supplicating his bless- 
ing upon those who had gone out to battle for their homes, 
their altars and their sacred rights. With these glorious 
incentives and with the tnrilling spectacle of this con- 
tinual suppliance to Almighty God, how could they but 
anticipate victory as the issue of the struggle to them? 

I' or a time, as all remember, it appeared that the victory 
of the contest was "in even battle hung," and the issue 
of the war was doubtful. In the fall of 1863 the fortunes 
of the South began rapidly to recede, and gloom and doubt 
had begun to fill the hearts of the people. At this time in 
Upson county, Ga., Rev. Abel Ansley, a devout man of 
God and a minister of the gospel, had a marvelous dream. 
It had the prognostic form and the impressive symbols 
which characterized the divine communications which God 
made to his ancient prophets. He had laid down at night 
like Daniel, the ancient prophet of God. troubled in mind as 
to the fate of the South and the result of the war. Whilst 
meditating on these things he fell asleep, and as in a vis- 
ion he saw two columns standing erect before him. One 
of these columns was inscribed "The North," and on it 
below the inscription were the words, "Ruin, Devastation, 
Power." On the other column was written, "Ihe South," 



TiiK Prophet of the Confederacy. 191 

and below this were the words, "Ruin, Sacrifice, Triumph." 
This dream he related to a friend who wrote it down from 
Lis lips as the words of one whom he regarded as favored 
of God, if he did not have the spirit of inspiration resting 
upon him as a seer. 

The dream did not find its way to the newspapers, but 
it became orally current among the people. The interpre- 
tation of it was, that it was a favorable prediction for the 
South as to success and victory. The continued waning of 
the fortunes of the South discredited the i)rophetic char- 
acter of the dream, and the seer suffered in his religious 
and clerical reputat' n before the people. As all know, 
in twelve or eighteen months thereafter victory declared 
for the North, and subjugation, spoliation and political 
proscription, even to the present, have been the lot of the 
South as the result of the war. Notwithstanding this 
was the case, the prediction contained in this dream was 
not altogether false, as it apparently seemed to be, either 
as concerning tne North or the South, but there has been 
and is a partial, if not literal, fulfillment of it, as will be 
seen in the sequel of this sketch. 

CHAPTER II. 

It is a beautiful myth from Homer, the old Greek poet, 
that there are two portals of exit from the realm of sleep. 
One is through the gate of horn, indicating that the vis- 
ions that were unfolded to the mind during the hours of 
sleep were true and of prophetic significance. The other, 
from the gate of ivory, implying that the things that 
throng the brain when sleep's soft signet seals the eyes 
are false, and are mere fantasies that play in the mind 
when conscious reason for the time lays its scepter down. 

Applying this beautiful classic legend, it may be said 
of him who is styled "The Prophet of the Confederacy" in 
the caption of this article, that his exit from the land of 
dreams after his aforementioned vision was from the gate 
of horn. Whether it was sent of God or not, the pre- 
dictions it contained respecting the North and the South 



192 Essays anj) Adduivsses. 

have been and are beint;- fulfilled as seen in the liKbl ^'f 
history. 

As concerninj^- the Soulh, all know how great was the 
rnin the war bronght to it. Mad the curtain of the 
future been uplifted and the war which secession would 
inaugurate been unfolded to the Southern States, not in 
the dancing plume, the stirring notes of the fife and the 
peals of the drum, and all the jyomp and circumstance of 
war as painted by the youthful imagination, but in the 
lierce pageantry of the shout of the warrior, of garments 
rolled in blood, of the devastation of their valleys and 
plains, the btUMiing of their towns and cities, and the incal- 
culably costly sacrifice of the "fiower of the land" in the 
freshness o[ youth and the prime of manhood that would 
go down in hoi)eless slaughter upon the field of battle, they 
perhaps would have paused longer before making the fear- 
ful experiment. 

iUit did the .South "triumph," as appeared writtt'u upon 
the colunui? If properly construed in the light of subse- 
v|nent events, it may be said that it did triumph, but not in 
the way and maimer that was anticipated. As one feature 
•of its triumph ma\' be mentioned the time and manner of 
the peace to the South with wbii-h tlie \\:\v closed. The terms 
granted by (ienerals tlrant and Sherman to (ienerals Lee 
and Johnston, and with the South crushed, had never be- 
fore been known to warring nations. However viewed 
then, the abolition of the institution of slavery was a great 
l)lessing to the South. No greater evil could have fallen 
upon the South than the existence and perpetuation of 
slavery as it existed at the opening of the war. 'Phe negro 
race in the course of time would have so increased as to 
overshadow the white, and would have blurred the civ- 
ilization of the South in the production of a slave aristoc- 
racy as now at the North the baneful I'lTeets of tlu' ])ln- 
tocracy are seen. There would have been the dimimition 
of a substantial white yeomanry, whose homely virtues in 
everv government and in every country have been the bnl- 
warks of society in peace and in war. 

Again, the readmission to the ITnion was a great blessing to 
Ibe Southern States, when thev might have been still held 



TnK Prophet of thp: Confi<:deracy, 193 

;and treated as conquered provinces. It removed the heel 
of miHtary despotism from their necks and its fetters froni 
their hands. It freed them from the phmdorino;' and igno- 
minious rule of aHcns and cari)etl)ai^gers, and put the reins 
■of government in the hands of their own sons. 

CHAPTER III. 

The devastation of the fiekls and the homes of the South 
and the prostration of the various pursuits of its industry 
as the resuh of the war did not paralyze her energies. She 
rose from her ashes, suhlimely met the exigencies of her 
impoverished condition, and with invincihility of purpose 
entered again upQu the road to prosperity. The war 
clouds that had hung lowering over her for four long years 
being dispelled, and her soldier sons returning to their 
homes, filled the land again with shouts of joy and the 
sweet hum of a busy jjopulation. They cast aside the 
musket and the sword and grasped again the plow and the 
hoe, and in a short time her hills and valleys wore covered 
w^ith the rustling harvests of grain and the fleecy treasures 
of the cotton plant. In the years that have followed, manu- 
factures have grown apace and have added largely to the 
wealth of the country. 

The tide of prosperity that has flowed in upon the South 
since the war has caused it to he called the "New South," 
as a distinguished encomium upon her people. She is 
entitled to this ajipellation only so -far as it respects the 
progress she has made by the development of her resources. 
One special feature of her triumph over adversities 
that came to her from the war is that she still retains the 
traces of that chivalry and of that hospitality for which 
her people were noted in the palmy days of the past. 
]\Tay those traits of social character ever be interwoven in 
ber chaplet of honor. 

The "J^c''^'6<' of Grey" may have been folded up and laid 
away in silence, and the "Conquered Banner" furled for- 
evermore, as "there is now no hand to wave it," vet the 
principles of those who wore the one and waved the other 

18 si 



194 Essays and Addresses. 

arc still cherished in the hearts of those Americans who 
have known and experienced the blessings of the Republic 
under that Government as it was framed and fashioned in 
its integrity and simplicity by their revolutionary sires. 
Those principles stand associated with the solid courses 
of nature, as with each returning sipring when the nation 
would tieck with lloral tribute the liallowed mold of her sons 
who in battle fell din-ing the war, honor is rendered to the 
memory of "The Grey"' equal to and jointly with "The 
Blue." And may tlicy, piu-e as in the past, be kept ever 
laid up in tlie temple of the great Southern heart and 
guarded as the palladium of Constitutional Liberty. 

The great triumph to the Southern States has been in 
the control and management of its emancipated slave pop- 
ulation. The negro race, ignorant, inferior in mind and 
morals, and being suddenly removed from bondage 
and elevated to equal political privileges with the whites, 
their former masters, living in the bosom of Southern 
society, afforded a problem for solution both difficult and' 
'dangerous. The Southern people have successfully solved 
it. Wisely seeing the necessity of the negro race being 
fitted for citizenship, the Southern States made full and 
liberal provisions for their intellectual training and enlight- 
enment, and in a measure equal to those for the white. Un- 
der this benevolent system of treatment they have been, 
and are peaceable, quiet, humble, and furnish to the South, 
the best class of labor on the globe, though violations of 
the laws of the land by them may largely prevail. 

Such have been the features of the triumphs of the 
South, and in the light and glor^^ of them within her 
borders, she may not envy the North in the vast number 
of its po]>ulation, the endless variety and abundance of 
its arts of civilization, its full usurpation of the powers 
of government and the millions of dollars that are an- 
nually poured from the public revenue into the lap of its. 
pensioners from the war. 



TiiK Prophkt of the Confederacy. 195 



CHAPTER IV. 

As it has been shown in the preceding- article that the 
dream of the Seer of the Confecieracy was fulfilled con- 
cernino- the issues of the Civil War to the South, "was it 
also the case respecting the North?" might be asked. One 
of the inscriptions on the cohnnn marked the North was 
the word "Ruin." "War yields no good and works all 
ill," says Spenser in his "Faerie Queene." Even though 
the victor in the sanguinary contest, this was the result 
to the North in the mighty struggle. The victories she 
won in her hostile invasion of the South, like those of 
Genghis Khan, the e:rcat Tartar chieftain of the twelfth 
century, in his conquest of Eastern and Western Asia, 
should have as a monumental i)ile a vast pyramid of hu- 
man skulls and bones. Such a memorial would fitly char- 
acterize the ruin to the country in the loss of human lives 
sacrificed by the war. 

The word "Devastation" was also seen inscribed upon 
the column by the Seer. The South knows well how 
fully this woe was accomplished when her fertile plains 
and valleys were so ravaged that in a llight of sixty miles 
a crow would have to carry his rations or go without 
food. Time with its renovating touch has in the la.st 
thirty years repaired the traces of ruin wrought by the 
ruthless war in the desolation of the South and wiped away 
the tears of orphans and healed the broken hearts of wid- 
ows. "The Union" was preserved by the war, the great 
object, as alleged by the North, for which it was fought. 
The Union might remain like the "bands of iron and 
brass" in the vision of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, 
but the Old Tree of Liberty which it once in the confed- 
eration of the States girded and supported, like that one 
m the aforesaid vision, has suffered sad' havoc in its 
branches, leaves and fruits. 

The North, as well as the South, suffered greatly in 
the sacrifice of lives of its citizens by the war, but the 
thmned ranks of its population were replenished by a con- 
stant tide of foreijrn immigration. It has grown richer and 



196 l^SSAVS AND A])DR1';SS1-;S. 

more powerful wilh each tlecade since llie war closed. It 
has amassed the wealth and C(.)ncenlraled all political 
power. It has manufactures and all the arts of civiliza- 
tion in endless variety and luiexaniplcd ahundance. Its 
linancial wealth is annualU increased ])y the payment of 
ij^ 150,000,000 in pensions to the entire Union army, as 
many as may he survivinjif. Through the Repuhlican jiarty 
it has and holds an iron grip upon the government and 
rules with undivided sway as its millionaires may tlictate. 

The South may not envy her hig sister its wealth, power 
and pomp of stale. There is a spirit of unrest, tumults 
and strikes among its hundreds of thousands of lahorers, 
and there are heard volcanic rumhlings underneath the 
broad surface of its society, and there are now and then 
throes of npliea\al, threatening and disturbing the peace 
of the eomUry. ihu "Oixie" should not rejoice in thai 
which brings strife aixl detriment to any section of thft 
republic with its broad em])ire o\ forty-five States and 
five territories. 1 et trancpullity reign in spite of Cuba, 
Hawaii, ami all other eondicting foreign matters thrust 
upon national legislati(tn. and as an estt^ppel lO the prosi^er- 
ily of the country. 

Our 'i^rophet was uo[ stiMied by the people, althongli his 
dream, or vision, was not fuUllled in the wav /hat the 
])opular mind .-mticiiialed. lie was a good and true man. 
lie was greath lionored of Cod in the gift of dreams of pvo- 
T^hetic power! Like Daniel of ancient record, he stood "in 
his lot at the end of the davs." 



SKETCIIKS OF TEXAS. 

No. I. 

An artist was called upon to paint Italy in one grand 
impressi\e scene. In the execution oi this task he simplv 
portrayed the .Alps in their snow-clad grandeur, the sub- 
lime boimdary of natiu'c that shuts out Italy from view on 
the north, and alnne them a sketch of sky of exquisite 



vSKi-nviii'.s oi'' TivXAS. \()'] 

hues and ctlioroal hcaiily, llial vvilli cinhlcinalical si<;nili- 
caiicc inij;ht convey to llu- iinas^iiiatioii a conceplioii of the 
loveliness of the clime il spanned with its vanlt of bine. 
He knew well, that no hand nor hrnsli, liowever skillfid, 
could present on canvas in livini;' force and synnnetry the 
varii'd scenery of that classic land upon which nature had 
lavislu'd its clioicest gifts, and \\w aj^cs had enriched with 
all the enihellishnients of art. 

Thus it may he picnnst'il of llu' elTort 1(» write upon or 
of Texas, in view of the extent of its territory, the diver- 
sity of its surface, soil, climati>, arts of industry and the 
composite character of its population. The tourist com- 
mencing.;" at the easliMii hiinn<lar\' of the Stale, and con- 
ve\'ed 1)\ steam Irax'elinj;' <iii iidii patlivvays to its wes- 
leru limit and thus thn iii^JKnit its hordei-s, will havi' seen 
its mere outlines. To lill luit and coiiiplelt' the picture 
demands (he aid of the iniai^iuation to map out before 
the mind and iill the inli'rvi'uinjj;' spaces with aipparently 
interminable tracts of forests and prairie, diversil'ied with 
hill, mountain, valley and river, interspersed with broad 
art-as of tillage and dolled willi towns and villaj^es. What 
can the pen do towards the task, save as to f;ive a hint 
and a touch liere and there? 

The history of Texas from its earliest period has in-* 
terwoven around it all tb(.' charms of romancH'. The vast- 
ness and beauty of the country, the possession of it by 
the Indians, the discovery and occupation of it by Si)ain, 
the planting of its hrst settlements, its subse(|Uent career 
as a dependency of the ri'pnblics of Mexico, opens a field 
of thouj:^ht fascinatinj^- to llu- mind. The ])lantinn- of an 
American colony on its soil forms an iin]ioi-|;inl event 
and ei)och in its history. It st-emed at the time not to be 
a matter of much moment, bid it proved to be the layini^ 
of the foundation of a f^reat nation and people. The leader 
of the enterprise, Stephen Austin, was in (he L;race and 
dip^nity of his person and the majesty of his intellect, wor- 
thy to be the foimder of ilie great State of Texas, h'ven 
now (he heart and mind of tJu' ,c;if(ed will do homag'e to 
(he attributes of his person and charaeler, as tliev appear 
<lelineated in (he portrait lianded down of him. 



198 Essays and Addresses. 

The incipicncy and cstal)lislimcnt of Texas as a republic 
with Anglo-Saxon race and rule, was a period of heroic 
daring and exploit. To have been one of the band who 
laid its foundations was to be immortal. The struggle of 
the infant people for political independence and nationality, 
though meager in its details, was grand in its principles 
and purpose and rendered illustrious by the heroism of 
its leaders. Chief on the list of them was General Sam 
Houston, the hero of San Jacinto. It was the distinguished 
privilege of the writer of this article to have casually met 
in life with this eminent American. It was in his boyhood 
days, in January, 1848, being then on his way to join 
Emory College, as he boarded the train at Barnesville, 
Ga., on entering the car his attention was attracted to a 
man of unusually tall stature and majesty of person. Dur- 
ing the course of the day and the journey on the train, 
this individual proved to be General Houston, then on 
his way as a member of Congress to Washington. The 
youthful mind of the writer was deeply impressed by this 
incident, and it has been to him a ])leasing reminiscence. 
Half a century has passed since then and the grand old 
hero now sleeps in the mar1)le silence of the sepulchre. The 
young heart then that looked in silent admiration on him, 
now bows in reverence to do honor to his memory. 

No. 2. 

Besides Stephen F. Austin, the father of Texas, Sam 
Houston, the hero of San Jacinto, or Mirabeau B. Lamar, 
the poet-warrior, there were many other gallant spirits 
of equal fame" and patriotism who helped to achieve the in- 
dependence of Texas and lay the foundations of the 
young republic. There is no need of com^parison of them 
in their martial valor and devotion to their ccnuitry to the 
soldiers and patriots of antiquity or others of modern 
times. The eulogy of the pen can not add to or detract 
from the honor of their memory or the luster of their vir- 
tues. Thev were men as true and heroic as ever drew sword 
in defense of their homes antl freedom, or "died upon hon- 



Sketches of Texas. 199 

or's lofty bed." The humblest soldier that was in the infant 
army of the republic merits this tribute. 

In her present grand development and preeminence 
as a State, Texas feels proud of her history as a republic, 
and of the achievements that gave her birth. She cele- 
brates with each year the twenty-first of April; the anniver- 
sary of the battle of San Jacinto. She pays tribute of 
honor to the surviving veterans of that period and struggle. 
The roll of them is lessening with each year, and at their 
last reunion did not number one hundred and fifty. When 
the last one is dead, the memory of them and their deeds 
will be perpetuated not only in bronze or marble, but in 
the millions of hearts within her borders. The glory they 
achieved was truly American and became a common her- 
itage to the free-born sons and daughters of the Anglo- 
Saxon race of America. 

Whilst Texas was a republic and after it became an- 
nexed to the United States, she opened wide the portals 
of her territory to immigration. Thousands in the United 
States, friends and kindred of the combatants in the little 
Texan army, had been watching with eager interest and 
awaiting the issue of the contest. This being decided, 
thousands responded to the invitation Texas extended to 
immigrants and the bountiful offerings made to settlers. 
To them in imagination or from personal survey the coun- 
try opened in the bewildering vastness and the enchanting 
loveliness of its prairies and the grandeur of its forests. 

Of the immigrants who came, not all of them were com- 
posed of those who were destitute of homes, or needy 
•adventurers seeking to make their fortunes, or fugitives 
from justice, as was currently surmised in regard to the 
original settlers of the State. Many of them left homes 
of affluence in tlicir native States, and all tlie charms and 
graces of civilized life, allured by the golden dreams of 
wealth this land of paradisiacal beauty opened upon their 
vision. This character of immigrants has constituted the 
dominant if not the larger element of the immigration 
that has been steadily pouring into the State during the 
past half century. 

The growth of Texas in population was slow at first. 



20O KSSAVS AND ADDRI'.SSI'.S. 

It lay rcniolc from those sciMioiis oi llie Unik-cl Slates from? 
wliicli, on aix-oiiiit of tlio ties of home, kiiuh'ed and eoimlry, 
the rei)iihhc eoiild n-asoiiahlv liope for immii^ralion. The 
travel to it was hy laud and (he journey was ledioii.s, lonj^ 
and perilous at that day. 'i"he iliarminj^ story was ahroad 
of 'Pexau li(*spi(;dil\', as liiiiij; warm, .i^'eiiial, dispi'used 
wilhoul |)iiee, and as Ioiil; as the l;mi-s1 wnuld hide; hill 
also with il Ihe ill fanii-, ihal in this new lanii of lioi^' aiul 
promise hail L;alln'ird llie dcspeiado and ihe villain. The 
railroad, thai nn^hU' ai;cnl of eivili/al i' "ii, penelratini;" 
Texas with ils iron pathways, openiMJ it np tn the world 
and ihe pionicr. The b kouk i( i\ i, with its Imii; train of 
ears eiowdi'd with iinini.L;i'anls, supplanted the whili'-eov- 
ered wa.Ljons as diawn in winding; rtmte over llu- jd'airie 
hv slowK' inovini; o\rn. Mow wonderlnl was tin Irans- 
formation! Ihe progress of i'esas in ])opiilal ion, li'ade, 
eommerce and all the aits of induslry hei-;iine at onee phe- 
noiiu-nal. 

The hroad aren;i it presented to those who wore desirous 
of wealth or ainitilious for disi inetioii drew eluMee spirits 
from the ojdei- St.ites. I hi(K'r the happy s\stem of the 
;\mei"iean <^(i\ einmeiil that knows no ."-^tate lines, and ree- 
<ij;ni/A's eaeli Sl.ile as sovereign and indepemlenl , hut eonii- 
try as one, llie\' were entitled to full rights of eili/eu- 
,ship and eli^ihle lo all ei\ir honois. Mow mas^nanimously 
Texas has treated Ihein in,i\ in' seen from the loni;' list 
of ehief exeeulixcs ol the Slate. I'nl one of tlu'in. ex- 
( iox'ernor 1 1ol;i;, was a n.ilixi- Texan. This imiipie feature' 
in the histoiN of the civil L;()\-einmeiit of tlu" St.ati- has 
prevailed also in ii\<;ai"d to other hi,L;li ollieials. Those thus 
lioiiored possessed worthy moral and iutelleetual (|nali(ie.s, 
hut in view of eireumslanees and the array oi eompelitivc 
I, dent, their sueeess was so remarkahle, thai it seems as 
if llie\' wi'ie f.ixored of fortune, or with I'lU'ri^'v <d' soul" 
i-ompelleil her lo sil ilown on her tripod ,in(l pronounce 
an oiaele in their favor as Alexandi'r Ihe ( Ireat did the- 
prii'stess al I K'lphos. 



Sketciiks ok Tkxas. 201 



No. 3. 

As a republic Texas showed its api)reciution of the value 
aud importance of popular education to render a govern- 
ment stable and to make a 'people happy and prosperous, 
'['o establish a system of public instruction and to j^rovide 
for its support and maintenance by setting a])art so many 
sections of land from its im[)erial domain, was engrafted 
into its hrst constitution, to br a fundamental ])rinciple of 
its government. Strange to say, i)rovisions were made at 
first only for the instruction of indigent children. The 
l)rogress made in the diffusion of e(hK"ition was quite 
limited up to the close of the civd war on account oi the 
sparsity of the population. 

It was after reconstruction was counplrlt'd and it was 
again rehabilitated with the oKl and inalienable rights as 
a free and st)vereign State, that Texas began to bestir her 
giant energies and to make use of her magnificent resources 
in the establishment of a thorough and full system of 
])ublic instruction. The appro])riation of land fo' Ibat 
])urpose is truly numilicent, and when the revenue from the 
sale and disposition of it shall be materialized, Texas will 
have a jjublic school fund ])crbaps not iuferior to that of 
any State or nation. At the pr<'sent time the amount re- 
ceived from tlie various sources jjrovidcd by the State is 
annually $4.50 ])er capita of the scholasti'- ipoi)ulalion. 

Schools are now eslal)lisl)ed throughout llic Icngib .and 
breadth of the land, and like so many anc'sian wells with' 
their crystal streams, they are sending forth their vivify- 
ing inlluences to beautify and gladden evt;ry hotiie. Nor- 
mal schools have been instituted to train teachers in the 
art of instrnetmg. The stream of (•(jncatiou is itrnad, but 
not deep, it bears not upon its bosom the rirli arj4(jsies 
of classical learning. The old-time leaelier with his thor- 
ough methods of instruction is ])assing out. The field of 
educational work is now filled with young teachers trained 
in the new methods. What the harvest will be, time alone 
will develop. 

Tt was largely through the agency of Roman Catlujlic 



202 Essays and Addresses. 

missions that Texas, as the abode and country of the In- 
dian, was first settled by colonies from Spain. The In- 
dians withered away under the methods of the mother 
church to convert them to Christianity. The political rev- 
olution that severed the fetters that bound Texas as a 
province to Mexico brought in the Anglo-Saxon race to 
possess the land, and also with it Protestant Christianity 
to take the place of Roman Catholicism. It substituted 
the divine message of peace and the love of the Gospel 
for the <pri>on and the rigors of penance. 

The agents and messengers of Protestant Chrisiuunty 
occupied the fickt of evangelical labor. The Methodist 
missionary with his Bible and hymn-book, as the pioneer 
of the Gospel, was present. There, too. came the Baptist 
preacher, with all the zeal and fervor of the Forerunner, 
to preach rejientance unto salvation. iNIinisters of the gos- 
pel of other Protestant Christian denominations occupied 
this field white unto tiie harvest, and to-day Texas can 
count its votaries of Christianity b}' scores of thousands, 
and its edifices for divine worship that catch the rays of 
morning on glistening spire by the thousands. Humble 
invocation of the blessing of Almighty God is the brief pre- 
amble of its Constitutit.Mi. 

The people of Texas are proud of the magnitude of their 
State. As having "the Lone Star" for its emblem, the 
School History of Texas compares it to \'enus shining in 
solitary beauty on the brow of morn ; but in the galaxy of 
States, it is rather to be likened to Jupiter in size among 
the planets of the solar system. It is certainly a big State, 
and the idea of its magnitude seems to have filled the 
hearts and minds of the people, and all their public enter- 
prise must be on the magnificent scale. This is exhibited 
in the court-houses built by many counties of the State, cost- 
ing from seventy-five to over a hundred thousand dollars. 
This idea of magnitude and grandeur in their architectural 
structures reaches its climax in the capitol at Austin, 
which is reputed to be the second largest public building 
on the American continent, costing six millions of dol- 
lars. Its business world is like the great palpitating heart 



Skktchks of Ti';xas. 203 

of the ocean that is continually moving- in tides and cur- 
rents. 

The struggle of Texas for political independence and 
its brief life-period as a republic constitute the first act 
of the opening drama it was to play in time. This the 
student of history will find, as he glances with telescopic 
eye over the past, to be the initial link in the chain of 
events that have tran.s])ire(l and followed as sequences 
which have involved and largely shaped the destiny of the 
United States for over a half century. To it directly as 
the cause may be traced the war with Mexico and the vast 
area of territory acquired; and indirectly in its results the 
civil war, and rcmotelv in its effects the war with Spain 
and the present l*hilii)pine imbroglio. The end is not yet 
of the drama. 

No. 4. 

X^'hen the task of writing these "sketches" was begun, 
it was scarcely in the range of thought as a possible event 
that before they were comi)leted a flood would occur in 
Texas of such magnitude that it would attract all eyes 
and move all hearts to compassion, so wide-spread the evil 
done. Yet such has been the case. The number of vic- 
tims and the destitution caused by this calamity have been 
so great as to call for the benevolence and aid, not only 
of the State, but of the country at large. 

The inundation that wrought such destruction of life 
and property, as quoted from the press, was from "the 
annual rise of the Brazos, which is caused from the volume 
of water from the great watersheds of New Mexico and 
Colorado pouring in, having ])een superinduced by heavy 
local rains." 

In the face of this fearful disaster, an article that calis 
attention to Texas in its ordinary phases ma}' seem to be 
inopportune and void of interest. It should derive the im- 
portance of a historical jotting from this tragic occurrence. 

A flood, whether more or less disastrous, always forms 
an epoch of time in the calendar of men. The Latin poet 
Horace in one of his odes perpetuates the memory of a 



204 I'iSSAV.S AND ADDUI'.SSK.S. 

scNcTc (ciupcsl .iihI ail iinuulatitui of llii' Tihor lliat ocfunxnl 
al Ivniiu' on llir iiij^lil al'lcr Oclaviiis assumed liis new title 
.oi Auj^usliis. Ill llu' cliannint;- lyric lie tells of the stornv 
of snow .111(1 liail "(lie I'atlier of ,l;o(1s and men" siiil, and 
who terrilied the city l»y casting down with his reel right 
hand the sacred sunnnils of the teini)les. Not only this, hut 
says he saw the yellow 'ril)er. with waves liurled violently 
back on the ICtruscan shore l(t ^o casting down the ven- 
erated nu'iuorial ni King Nuina. 'The jjoet regarded this 
visilalion as a mark of divine displeasure, lie cites the 
critlies of the Koiiian pi'ojjle and alU'ges their guilt as the 
cause. 

What mind so perxcrsi- or hi'art so cruel, in view of the 
spi'ctacle of havoc, ilesolation ami floating fetid and fester- 
ing carcasses that the llood-strii ken region ])resents, coulil 
for a monu'iil predicitt' the wickedness of it.s ipeople as 
the cause lA the v-alamity? It is one of those inscrutable 
things in the ways of |)i\iiu' rid\i(leiice, as well as thou- 
sands of others, that human reason can not ])eiietrate or 
understand. In the light ol the grace and mercy of God 
stub dread events shonkl convey needful lessons of luoral 
instruclit)n to the lunnan race. They should teach the sov- 
ereign i)ower of (lod, and (ill the souls of men with sol- 
emn awe. Thev should move all hearts to feel another's woe 
and to minister unto the wants of suffi-ring hum.anity. 'Phey 
should lead alt mankind to (lod as tlu> fountain of life and 
joy and the onlv safe refuge for time and i't(.'riii(y. 

The waters of the Hood will retire, the hand of IkmicIi- 
cence will relieve tlic> wants of the starving and homeless 
hundreds; many of them, perhaps, will seek to re-erect 
their domiciles on the old home site; under the recupera- 
tive powers of Natiu'c and the magnetic forces i)i human 
art and industry the valle\' of the r)razos ami other sec- 
tions desolated by the late- Hood will be repeoi)Ied and in 
the lapse of time regain their former i)rosperit\'. This 
area of territory is called the "Sug;ir I'owl" of 'kexas, 
in view of sugar-cane being one i^i its chief products. 
The vallev of the Hrazos was faiued for its beauty am! 
fertility. 

The immigrant can find a home in Texas to suit him. 



vSkivTciiks of Tp:xas. 205 

The choice will be principaHy between the prairie and the 
timbered sections of the Slate. ]'"aeli section has ils nat- 
m-al facilities and ils disadvanlaj^es. NolhiiiL;" can be more 
cliarmin^- and delii;luful than the grand and animated 
spectacle that the i)rairie ])resents on a joyous day when 
sprinj^ makes glad the earth. The hills and valleys spread 
out before the eye in graceful lines and cm-ves, in- 
vested with nature's mantle of royal green in the growing 
gras^ bedecked with flowers of various hues, and sky of 
cerulean depths overarches the scene as seemingly to en- 
clasp all things with loving embrace. 

Tlien how it thrills the s])irii to ride over the prairie 
with its waving verdure coming u]) to the breast of your 
horse; to inhale the elastic air and to fi'i-1 its sill<en touch 
in your huigs ; to look u])on the cattle gia/ing with bended 
neck and head down, "a thousand as one"; to have the 
exciting episode of a troop of iiorses that roam over the 
measureless ])astures with unboumled freedom to stam- 
5)e(lc and with ilying luane and hoofs poised in air to da.sl; 
away from sight; such and all of these are st)me of the 
pleasures of prairie life. 

Then, again, to locate a home on some knoll or slope 
in the verdant ex])anse before you; there to erect your 
domicile and place yoiu" household gods; to sod the land 
and to open a farm : to have the fertile soil in response 
to your labor to bring" forth the first year abundant har- 
vest — this seems to be all that the heart could desire of 
happiness in its earthly allotment. 

But there is another side to the ])ieture of ])rairie life 
thus portraved. l-^iel and water, those two essential things 
necessary xo meet ihe wants of civilized man, are scarce 
and inconvenient, 'i'hen there is the drouthy summer to 
be endured, and the parched plain to meet the eye. 'riien, 
perchance, the crop is short, 'i'hen in the winter the bleak 
])rairie, with scarcely a moving object to relieve the lone- 
liness and also the mire and nmd of its waxy soil. Then 
come the blue northers, those grim archers of the prairies, 
to pierce the body with their keen, invisible arrows. These 
are some of the discomforts of life on the ])rairie. 

With life or a home in the limber lands (here is the lo- 



2o6 Essays and Addresses. 

cation amid the broad-branching forest of oak, or of the 
pine with its swaying tops of evergreen and fragrant odors. 
The faciHties of wood and water are in abundance. The 
soil is not as fertile as that of the prairie, but productive. 
There is much manual labor to be done in order to build 
the house and open the farm, but materials are at hand. 
There is water for the stock and fine range in the wood 
and swamps. The soil is adapted to a variety of products, 
and the annual return to the husbandman for his labor is 
sure. Peace, health and plenty crown his abode. 



A HISTORICAL ETCHING— THE HERO OF 
SAN JACINTO. 

Sacred to the human heart is the memory of the dead. 
To perpetuate their deeds and virtues and to imitate theii 
example is the task and duty of the living. They should 
not sink into the tomb and become to dumb forgetfulness 
a prey, but their words, their thoughts, their actions and 
wisdom should serve as links to bind the living present to 
the mighty past. The evil they did should be interred with 
their bones, the good they did should live after them. The 
immortal longing in the breast even of the humblest indi- 
vidual recoils from the thought that though his body after 
death mav become a kneaded clod and in cold obstruction 
rot. that he should be forgotten among men. 

August and revered sliould be the memory of those 
whose careers in life crowned them with the name and 
renown of heroes. Their well-recorded worth should live 
on the imperishable tablets of history for instruction and 
example to succeeding generations, to inspire them to vir- 
tue and honor. When Zeno, the Greek philosopher and 
founder of the Stoic school, consulted the oracle in what 
manner he should live, the answer was. he should inquire 
of the dead. Wisely and beautifully says a writer of mod- 
ern fame, "To the great concourse of the dead we should 
come, not merely to know from them what is true, but 
chiefly to feel with them what is righteous." Not only those 



Till', Mkko ok San Jacinto. 207 

who won licroic fame in life's hioad lielil i>f hatllc deserve 
]>ustluniious honor, but all who in the i)rivate walks of 
life leave to the world a spotless example. 

Uelieate and of high moral responsibility is the task of 
him who writes in memorial of the illustrious dead, and 
upon his pen imi)erils their just fame and character wheth- 
er he may write well or ill. It is difficult to speak mod- 
er.itelv where a firm belief of the truth is desired to be es- 
tablisiied and where a living portraiture is sought to be 
l)resented. The well-disposed reader will think himself 
destitute in comparison of those things that are desired 
and designed to be set forth, lie that is ignorant and not 
well disposed, on account of envy, will perhaps think the 
writer arrogant, if he reads of anything above his reach. 
For thus far the praises spoken of others arc endurable 
to that extent and to what each one may think he himself 
is able to accomplish ; but whatever exceeds is regarded 
as unworthy of credit. 

Not only these obstacles as mentioned are in the way 
of the biographer, but the illustrious departed whom he 
undertakes to portray may be of such grand proportions 
of character, life and achievement that he is diffident of his 
ability to tndy represent him. Such is the case in the 
present instance in regard to the subject of this essay. 

"Quis Martem tunica tectum adamantina digne scripse- 
rit?" (Who is worthy to write of Mars clothed in adaman- 
tine tunic?), sung in lyric verse the poet Horace, when 
called upon to celebrate the praises of Agrippa, the inti- 
mate friend of Augustus, a celebrated commander, distin- 
guished for his various exploits both by lanrl and sea. Who 
may worthily portray the life and career of him who stands 
crowned in the lists of time as "The Hero of San Jacinto"? 

When the memorable verse of Terence, the Latin poet, 
"Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum iputo " (I am a 
man: and consider nothing of man foreign), was recited 
before a Kfiman audience composed of people of different 
Cfumtries, they rose up in applause of the sentiment. They 
felt that the expression conveyed a great truth of nature, 
which it was honorable to recognize. It is instinctive in 
the heart of man to feel an interest in the life and for- 



2o8 Essays and Addresses. 

tunes of his fellow man, and especially of those who at- 
tain greatness and distinction. There is a desire to know 
of his ancestry, parentage and circnmstances of his birth, 
childhood and yonth. In regard to the snbject of this 
•essay, there is the biographical statement that "his ances- 
try is traced to the highlands of Scotland." By the side 
•of John Knox they fought for "(jod and Liberty." It 
is recorded of his father, that he was a man of remarkable 
physique, powerful in frame, lofty in bearing, and of un- 
disputerl bravery. It is said of his mother that she was 
distinguished in person, manners and mind. Beyond most 
of her sex, her intellectual and moral qualities were con- 
spicuous. The ancestors of these two, having emigrated 
to Pennsylvania, had come to Virginia and settled, and 
lived in close proximity to each other. 

It is further a matter of biographical record, that the 
subject of this etching was born near a locality known as 
Timber Ridge Church, seven miles east of Lexington, in 
R(x-kbridge county, Virginia, on the 2d of March, 1793. 
There was no doubt rejoicing in the household over the 
■event, and the parents in the fondness of their hearts, as 
they looked upon their child so bright, so beautiful, scf 
strong, predicted for him a marked destiny. Around the 
liead and temples of the infant Houston as he lay in the 
slumbers of the cradle no marvelous coruscations pL-ned 
as prognostic of his future greatness as told of ^Esculapius 
and Democritus and others. There was, however, placed 
upon him the Divine eye in sweet protection — the eye of 
Him who guarded and preserved the infant Moses in the 
ark of bulrushes and chose him to lead the children of 
Israel out of Egyi)tian bondage and to be the ^reat law- 
giver to the world, or chose Cyrus over one hundred years 
before the event to restore the Jews from Babylonian cap- 
tivity. 

The era of childhood conjoined and commingled with 
that of youth is regarded as the halcyon period in the life' 
of the race, and one of profound interest. The young 
spirit ushered into existence, revels in the luxurv of its 
new being. In the functions of its sense and by fancy 
led, it drinks in with delight, the beautv and jov of the vis- 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 209 

ible world around, and tlien, and then only, in the allotted 
term of threescore and ten years, as "untouched by sorrow 
and unsoiled by sin," he quaffs the cup of unalloyed pleas- 
ure. 

This joyous ei^och is likewise, too, the period of develop- 
jnent and of the formation of the character of the future man 
or woman. As the young being grows apace the fond eyes of 
parents watch with interest its every word and action and 
budding of its intellect, all along from the wee toddling 
walk of the child to the bold step of youth, and surmise what 
it will be and do in coming years. The child, as it is said, 
is father to the man. The projects that burn upon the youth- 
ful fancy and fill the mind, oftentimes will engage the ener- 
gies of manhood, and in their results form the tranquil mus- 
ings or appalling visions of old age. How vigilant, active 
and careful should parents be to guard the childhood and 
3'Outh of their children, so that no baleful blight from with- 
out, nor cruel restraint and tyranny at home, shall make 
those as scarred plants and crushed blossoms who are born 
heirs to happiness and immortal life. 

The biographical details of the boy life of Houston, the 
subject of this essay, are brief and meager. He inherited 
the grand physique, the strong intellect and daring inde- 
pendence of his father, and displayed these qualities of 
mind and body at an early age. Says his biographer, "not 
until he was eight years old coula he be induced to enter 
a schoolhouse." At the age of thirteen he had not at- 
tended school more than six months. In that time, he 
learned to read and write, and acquired some knowledge 
■of arithmetic. The schools of that period aft'orded but 
few facilities for education. It was in the early days of 
Virginia as a State and the thirteen States as a republic. 
It is not to be supposed that the lad Houston was with- 
out genius, or that there was to him no development of 
mind or training for life. 1 here v.-ere lessons of discipline 
to courage and self-reliance in the hardy manners of the 
pioneer state of society around him ; there was lovelinesg 
in the scenery of nature that daily met his eyes, to awaken 
and foster his fancy and poetic genius ; and there were 
legends of the deeds of daring in the Revolutionary war 

14 si 



2IO Essays and Addresses. 

still fresh in the memories of men, to inspire to manliness 
and patriotism. 

When he was thirteen years of age he sustained the 
loss of his father. This bereavement, though a sad afflic- 
tion, did not leave him in his wilful and wayward dis- 
position "lord of himself, that heritage of woe," as Lord 
Byron styles it. The father, the head of the family, and 
the husband, the band of the household, was removed, but 
the mother in her strong intellect, maternal dignity and af- 
fection wisely guided and governed the home. She sold 
her homestead in Virginia and moved to the banks of the 
Tennessee river, and on the borders of civilization found 
an abode for herself and children. In this change and ap- 
parently ordinary incident in the shifting drama of life the 
Great Unseen Hand was weaving the thread of destiny 
for the boy Houston. 

His biographer states that he went for a short time tO' 
an academy in East Tennessee. Whilst attending this 
school, translations of some of the ancient classics fell into 
his hands. One of them was Homer's Iliad by Pope, the 
rhythmic genius of English verse. This opened a new world 
of thought to him, and inspired him not only with a love 
of literature, but also with admiration for martial ex- 
ploits. It is said that he could repeat this book (the Iliad) 
verbatim. The reading of this book and the brilliant narra- 
tive of its heroes and their exploits at the impressible 
period of youth exercised over him a great and lasting 
influence. It gave to him that mold of thought and that 
knowledge and acquisition of pure and classic English that 
characterized his oratory in after years. More than alU 
perhaps the unconscious tuition that would flow out from 
the daily contemplation of Achilles, the proud and valiant 
warrior, and the lordly Agamenuion, the king of men? 
held as models of heroes, by the poet, combined with a 
sense of his natural superiority of stature and intellect, 
gave to his character and demeanor in the years of man- 
hood the imperious air complained of by some of his con- 
temporaries. 

The youthful Houston, fascinated with the Iliad of old 
Greek Homer, as derived from an English fount, desired 



The Hero of San Jacinto, 211 

to drink deeper of the Pierian spring of ancient classical 
literature, and applied to his teacher for permission to 
study Latin. Strange to say, the teacher denied his re- 
quest. Why so, it IS not explained. The study of that 
language would have been of large benefit to him. The 
reading of the epic of Virgil, the orations of Cicero and 
the lyrics of Horace would have enlarged his vocabulary 
and enriched his mind with culture and choice specimens 
of literature. So indignant was he at the refusal of his 
request, says his biographer, that turning upon his heel, 
he deliberately affirmed that he would not recite another 
lesson as long as Jie lived, and left the school. 

On returning home, his mother and brothers desired that 
he should engage as a clerk in a small country store. They 
had no sympathy with the aspiring hopes and dreams that 
filled the mind of the youth that towered like a young 
giant among the household. There was nothing in his 
nature that could make a menial or mechanical employ- 
ment congenial. It would be as debasing the Arab steed 
in his fine blood and mettle, dray-cart to draw or yoke to 
bear. His proud spirit and intellectuality could not brook 
the domination that would coerce him into an uncongenia.l 
pursuit, and he disappeared from home. After some 
months he was found among the Cherokee Indians in North 
Alabama, just across the Tennessee river from his home. 
^\d^en questioned as to the motive of his conduct he re- 
plied that he preferred "measuring deer tracks to measur- 
ing tape — that he liked the wild liberty of the red men 
better than the tyranny of his own brothers, and if he could 
ilot study Latin in the academy, he could at least read a 
translation from the Greek in the woods, and read it in 
peace. So they could go home as soon as they liked." 

He remained among the Indians for a year or a longer pe- 
riod, participating in all their sports and pursuits, and com- 
manding their admiration and homage by his imperial attri- 
butes of person and daring spirit. His clothing becoming 
worn and threadbare, he revisits his home. He is received 
kindly by his mother and cared for properly by his broth- 
ers. Being again pressed bv domestic swav, he returns a 
second time to his Indian friends, where he sojourns for 



::^i2 



IVSSAN'S AND A 1 H )k I'.SSl'.S. 



■'iwliiK'. I 1.1 \' ill!.; iiiriincil (K'lils in his sl;iv aiiioiiL;;' them, 
ill Didcr lo iiKikc l!ic iiKuicy lo li(|iii(I,ilr liis iiHk"l)U'(lncss, 
lie nliiriis once \\U)\v lo his <>hl hiniif and friiMids iuu\ 
ti|nns a scliodl. This haN'ini; hccii accdinplishrfh he re- 
enters as a pn|iil his nld srhoul and I'liiia^cs in his chosen 
sIikHcs. ( )iic HiiIc iiuidciil ihal luTiinrd will hi^hl np 
his characlcr .ind \'ic\\s ol lhinL;s al this linu'. The 
icachiT i.;a\c him I'lidid's I'-U'iiiciils ol' (li'onu'lr\' lo sindv. 
Ma\'iii,L;' lakcii il home wilh him al lULdil and ^lanctMl owr 
its conli'iils, he returns il next niorihnj;. lie had decided 
lo rchn(|nish his (hcaiii and amhilion lo hccomc a scholar. 
I'hc !;('niiis (»l the pod w.is in the ;iscrnd;iiil. 

I his is {\]v hiicl iccoid ol the inipoi|;ml period of his 
Nunlh .ind school lilc I here \\;is no rc;idiii,L; in the .Sih\l- 
line K'ax'cs of its str;mL;c and nntow.ard t\';itiircs ;ind in- 
iidcnls that w-nnld indic.ilc, in the least, the promise .and 
j)roplietic torei\isl ol ih.il snhlime .and heroic career and 
deslim- in the li.^ht id" snhse(|ncnl history, he i'nllilled. It 
sei'ins a sad and pililess doom ih.il this youni;' Titan in 
i|)h\sic;d frame and inUdli'ct should li.i\'e heen Ihnist *)iu 
either hv his own willnl disposition or |he iron s\\ .ay of 
eiriMimsl.inces, from the heiii^n .and m'lii.d Ir.ainiiii; (d the 
S(lioo|idoni lli.it disciplines the \(imi!4 lo liahits ol ohedi- 
eiice .and st'l f coni rol, .and developnienl of the l.aimllies ol 
llu- mind so .al)solnU'l\ essential to the jnst fidrdlmeiit of 
all the varii'd dniies of life, .and the i)U'dL;e .and prestii^e of 
success and ri'iiown in the ,i;reat enterprises and pnhlie 
aH.iiis of men. 

It seems slf.in.i^e in the natiiri' id' ihinj^s tli.il this shonld 
Ii.ive heen his ailversi' f.ile. It ni;i\' he lli.at it w.as heller 
for him .and so deteiniined hy \\\v |)i\ine ll.ind Ih.il t;nides 
and ^<>\(.Tns in the alT.iirs of men, Ihal he should he 
trained in the ronj^li .and iait.;i;c'd school of experience rather 
than it) the school ni U'.arniiij^ ; lli.at strui;i;ies wilh adversity 
would develop stren.i^th of ch.aracter and hardiness more 
tli.an U'ltered i-;isi' ; ih.al lu' shonld leaiai wisdom fi-om tlii' 
lips of lixini; men lallier tli.an the inanim.alt' hooks of an- 
ti(|nil\'; llu' .art (d" st-lf control from llu' stoicism of the 
Ued Man in the slate of nature rather than from llu' rules 
and ni.axims id' the White Man in the schoolroom of civil- 



Tiiiv lli'.uo c)i'" San Jacinto. 213 

izcfl lifi'. I'hcn, after all, tlicrr may he an overestimate 
of llic power of education to make men j^reat. No artifi- 
cial means can create moral and inlelledual j^reatness. It 
lii's wrapped up in the soul, and thus it was with the suh- 
jccl of this etchini;'. 

As now (in iSi_^), in his twmlicth year, he stotxl U'pon 
tlu' ihresliold of manhood ;ii lifr's tremhlinj;' crossways, 
with heail hnniini; with intense desire foi' nohle achievement, 
and l()okc(| down the vista of coniinj^' years, unci ii;iin what 
to do, there came a tide in the affairs of tlu' younj; 1 rpnhhc of 
America that opened to him the career of his fnlmi- greatness. 
The United .itates had declared war aj^ainst ( iicil I'-iilain, 
and it was then i)rot;ressin^'. I Ic hecanu' a vohnilcci- .ind en- 
lislcij in ihc arniv. In his condncl as a siiidicr llicre slioni- 
onl in liiin, in tlir hislilmod of \(inlli, \';ilii|- ;nid palriolisni, 
allrihnlcs of cIiai'ai'hT I'slccnicd li\ mankind Ihrou^h all 
aj^es as the crowninj^' virtues of manlKKMJ, and exaltin;^ the 
possessor of them, whether lu- \\i>\v the (altered j^arh or 
llie patrician iuhe, wlu-lher displayetl in the lran(|uil arts 
of peace i>r the sans;ninary conli-sts of the hatlle-lield, t<j 
the heii;hts of imnioiial li<inor. 

"friends," sa\s his hio^raplier, "i('in< mshaleil ai^ainst 
his heconn'n^ a c<>ninioii ^ijdiei", and when his resolution 
was carried into ellerl, consideicd him disj^raced and nn 
worthy of future notice." I'.nt lie told them, "You don'l 
know me now, hut \ou shall hear of me." Mis mother 
lonsented and sliundaled him l)\' enci lurai^iui;' words to 
aim al success h\' Ih hk iialile cllnrt. She did not desert 
him then, hut liamliui; liei- l)o\ the nmskel, with the in- 
llexihle heroism of the rmcieni Spaitan mother, she said to 
him, "'fhere, m\' sou, l;iki' this musket and never disf.;race 
it; for reiuemlier I had rather all mv sons should fdl one 
lionorahle ^rave, than one of them shonid turn to save his 
life. ( lo, and ri'Uiemher, (00, that wliih' the dnor of niy 
cotta,i;i' is open to hrave men, it is eti'mally shut to cow- 
ards." 

'file suhlime sentiments of this Aniei"ican mother ami the 
patriotic sacrilice she made in vieldini; her son to he ;i 
soldier in the ser\i(H- of his country, were worthy of the 
youii};' repuhlic at that time, with its Ljrand hcrila;;r of 



214 Essays and Addresses 

freedom, political prestige and glory. With caressing 
pride and hope, the afifections of her heart were entwined 
around her impetuous and erratic boy in his magnificent 
youth, and deep and fervent were her petitions to God for 
him. Had the curtain of. the future been uplifted and she 
could have foreseen the dangers, 'toils and snares through 
which in his eventful life the Divine Almighty Hand with 
protecting care would lead him, and that greatness to which 
he would attain and which would place her among the il- 
lustrious mothers of history, as told in scriptural record, 
of a mother of ancient Israel when she dedicated her 
Samuel as granted of the Lord to His service at the al- 
tars of the sanctuary, she, too, would have poured out 
her heart in joyous thanksgiving and praise unto God for 
His loving kindness and tender mercy. 

The "young Houston chose the profession of arms as his 
vocation. However needful and justifiable at times, yet 
it appears strange and inconsistent to the humane and re- 
flecting mind that such an institution should exist in our 
enlightened, and especially a Christian nation. How mon- 
strous and revolting to the thought and sensibility, that 
man, endowed with reason and moral afl:"ections and hon- 
ored in his attributes with assimilation to Deity, should 
engage in war and seek to exterminate his species. Yet 
it is so, and those who have thus acted have engrossed 
the chief applause of their fellow-men. Orators, poets and 
historians have vied with each other, in extolling these 
monsters and their inhuman deeds in highest strains of 
panegyric. War is at variance with the Scripture, the re- 
vealed will of God, given to man as a directory of his con- 
duct. The brief injunction is, "Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
bor as thyself." "Peace on earth and good will to men" 
is the burden of the angelic proclamation of the Gospel. 

Soon after Houston enlisted, his regiment (39th Infan- 
try) proceeded to Tohopeka, a bend of the Tallapoosa 
river. War had been waged unsuccessfully with the Creek 
Indians for a long time. Here the full force and strength 
of the tribe, a thousand warriors, chose to stand and risk 
their destiny on a single contest. The battle fought by 
them with the United States army, under General Andrew 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 215 

Jackson, was severe and bloody. The issue was not un- 
certain. Says the historian : "The last rays of the setting 
. 5un of that day shone on the ruins of the Creek nation. 
A^olumes of dense smoke rose heavily over the bodies of 
painted warriors and the burning ruins of their log fortifi- 
cations. C3f the thousand brave warriors, the flower of In- 
dian chivalry, there were none to scowl on death and their 
assailants at Tohopeka." 

Young Houston, then about twenty years old, displayed 
amid the perils of this hard-fought battle, such heroic 
valor as excited the admiration of the entire army. In a 
charge with his men on the breastworks of the enemy "he 
received two rifle balls in his right shoulder, and his arm 
fell shattered to his side. The wounds which he received 
remained unhealed to the day of his death. He was car- 
ried from the battle-field and placed in charge of the sur- 
geon. The surgeon having extracted one ball, made no 
efi^ort to extract the other, as he deemed it unnecessary to 
torture the young hero, as he had no hope of his sur- 
viving." That result did not follow. His life career was 
not yet accomplished. The heroism which he exhibited in 
the battle won the lifelong regard of Andrew Jackson, the 
liero of New Orleans, warmly shown in earnest sympa- 
thies to him in all the fortunes of his after-life. 

The muse of history and of song delights the imagination 
with its glowing account, of the plumed troops, the serried 
ranks, the martial music, the din and strife of the battle- 
field and the "pride and pomp and circumstance of glorious 
war." Especially does its holiday pageantry fascinate the 
youthful mind. The dazzling glory fades beneath the test 
and experience of the real scenes of military life. The 
marches and counter-marches, the bivouac, the midnight 
■duty of sentinel, the hardships of camp life and the carnage 
of battle dissolve the dream, and the glory of war is found 
to be a beguiling phantom. 

In the military campaign through which he had just 
served, there was to young Houston no realization in the 
least of the brilliant spectacle of war and battles that had 
•enamored his youthful fancy in reading his favorite Iliad, 
and as waged by Greeks and Trojans and their allies be- 



2i6 Essays and Addressfs. 

ncath the walls of ancient Troy. There were no challenges 
to single combat from generous and valiant foes as of Ajax 
to Hector, Paris to Menelaiis and of other doughty war- 
riors of the Greeks and Trojans to each other, and as en- 
cased in armor, to meet in fair and open fight and try their 
mutual valor and skill in arms. There was no grand pa- 
geantry of opposing hosts moving to fierce conflict as of the 
Greeks in solid phalanxes, resplendent with the brilliance 
of their brazen armor, advancing with steady silence from 
their tents and ships by the sea, to meet with the Trojans 
as they pour out in warlike array through the Seaman gates- 
from Tlion's walls, in the puissant shock of battle on Sca- 
mander's sunny i^lain. In tlie battle (Tohoi)eka) fought, 
instead of tlio poet's martial splendor and gallant strife,, 
there was the dark forest, the stealthy an(l hidden foe, 
the nuisket witli its dastardly range aiul the war-whoop of 
the Indian savage. 

Such was the warlike dream and exi)erience of Houston,, 
now the youthful hero on account of his intrepidity and 
daring in battle, in the brief space of his military service. 
The wounds he had rccoi\c'(l were severe, and he suffered 
much from thorn. TIu'ih" were no comforts to be obtained 
in the wild state of the country through which he was borne 
on ;i litter, and naught but his invincible will bore him safe 
through his hardshijis and sulVerings. After an absence of 
two months he again stands at the door of his motlier's- 
cottage, a r)h\sical wreck so great that maternal instinct 
recognized him only b\ "the wonted ex])ression of his eyes." 
As he thus appears with his noble physique nuitilated in the 
first fresh hours of his manhood and with an incurable 
woiuul through life, how pimgent and forcible is the 
thoup;ht that the honoi-s won were an ill ciMupensation, and 
the triiuujihs of the war an inglorious meed for the sacrifice 
he made. Such is war — its horrors and its trophies. How 
strange is it, that it fascinates the imaginations and de- 
bauches the consciences of the human race! 

Beneath the sweet and sheltering repose of the parental 
roof and under a mother's tender care, he failed to recover 
his strength. As his chosen biographer (W. C. Crane. 
D.D., TJ..D.) states, "He \\ent to Knoxville lOr medical 



TiiK Hero of San Jacinto. 217 

aid. Ilcro he began to improve, and in a short time set out 
for Washinoton City. He reached the seat of government 
shortly after the burning of the Capitol. He felt indignant 
because of the ruin wrought by the British army (1813), 
and regretted that his right arm was disabled while a foe 
was prowling throughout the country. Having recuperated 
sufficiently to be able to do duly, he returned to Knoxville. 
Here he received the news of the battle of New Orleans. 
After peace was made and the army reduced, his services 
were retained as first lieutenant. He was detailed t)n duty 
in the adjutant's office, stationed at Nashville, from the 
1st of January, 1818. In the following November he was- 
detailed on extra duty as sub-agent among the Cherokees 
to carry out the treaty just ratified with that nation." He 
discharged the duties of that mission with mark-ed ability^ 
though sufil'ering severely from his painful wounds received 
in the service of his country. 

Conducting a delegation of Indians to Washington dur- 
ing that same winter, when he arrived at the seat of gov- 
ernment, he found that efforts had been made to lower him 
in the estimation of the administration (James Monroe's) 
for "having prevented African negroes being smuggled 
into the western States from Florida." He appeared be- 
fore President Monroe and the Secretary of War (John C. 
Calhoun) and vindicated himself. Revolting in his proud 
nature from a sense of sliglit, he resigned his position and 
retired from the army. Had he remained in the military 
service of his country he would no doubt have attained 
to high rank and achieved distinction. His personal at- 
tributes and invincible will would have placed him fore- 
most in any enterprise or business of life. "He turned his 
attention to the' law, and began his legal studies in June, 
1818. He was then in his twenty-fifth year. Experience 
and observation had enriched his mind. In the national 
struggle just closed he had gained a hero's name." Hav- 
ing studied the law for six months, one-third of the usual 
time prescribed, after a most searching examination, he was 
admitted to the practice. He rose ra])i(lly in the profession, 
and in the presence of some of the most distinguished men 
of the Union. 



2i8 Essays and Addrksses. 

Political life had its attractions for him, and being 
urged by his friends, he became a candidate for the United 
States House of Representatives (1823), and was elected. 
His course during his first term in Congress was so warmly 
approved by his constituents he was elected a second time. 
In 1827 he was elected governor of the State. In this brief 
time he reached the highest civic honors of his State. 

At this crisis (1827) it seemed that the subject of this 
etching had attained the highest point of honor, military and 
civil promotion and prosperity that young ambition could 
desire. He had engaged in the study and practice of law, 
and though laboring under disadvantage from want of high 
and thorough intellectual culture, he had, nevertheless, suc- 
ceeded in the legal profession. Entering the field of poli- 
tics, he had been twice elected to Congress, as a member 
of the House of Representatives. He was now Chief Ex- 
ecutive of the young and growing State of Tennessee, and 
had honor and troops of friends. His career of fortune 
had l)cen marvelous. No mind, however prescient of the 
future, could liave forecast from the circumstances of his 
boyhood and youth such a propitious destiny for him. It 
can not l)e altogether assigned to the splendid possibilities 
of promotion to rank and fortune arising from the genius 
of the American government which grants to all its citizens 
free and equal rights. Nor may it be considered as due 
alone to his personality. There is said to be a divine power 
that shapes the ends of mortals. 

No one at that propitious hour could have conjectured 
that a reverse of fortune in the prol)abilities of things 
would be likely to follow. The fickleness of fortune is 
proverbial. The English poet portrays beautifully the un- 
certainties of the earthly state of man. To-day, says the 
poet, man puts forth the tender leaves of hope, to-morrow 
blossoms, and bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; 
when he thinks his greatness is ripening, there comes a 
killing frost that nips the root of his prosperity. This 
Houston, now the popular young governor of Tennessee, 
realized. After an expiration of nearly two years in the 
term of his office as governor there occurred an event in 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 219 

liis life that cast a dark shadow over the honored and joy- 
ful present. 

"In January, 1829," says his biographer, "he was mar- 
ried to a young lady of reputable connections and gentle 
character. Her kindred were personal and political friends 
of General Houston, and had zealously supported him in 
his j)olitical canvasses. The whole country was taken by 
surprise, when, three months after marriage, a separation 
took place. No publication, either from General Houston 
or the lady has ever furnished a reason for this remarkable 
proceeding. Unfounded reports, born of bitter malignity, 
were scattered through Tennessee, and the popular feeling 
was so completely inflamed that, in this strange excitement, 
the State was divided into hostile parties. His name was 
denounced, impertinent disturbers of the peace, curiosity- 
hunting busybodies, did not hesitate to charge him with 
every species of crime ever committed by man." 

He never gave any public ex])lanation of this singular 
event, but was wont to say as a reply to all inquiry, "This 
is a painful, but a private affair." So should it have been 
considered l)y the public, and the matter should have passed 
into oblivion. The spirit of scandal and curiosity about 
the incident has "never slumbered nor slept." Now and 
then some writer in public print has endeavored to lift the 
veil of secrecy from the affair, Imt no revelation of any- 
thing criminal or even immoral has been brought to view. 
Since the writer of this etching began his task, three ac- 
counts of the matter have appeared in public print. The 
only clue to the separation of General Houston and wife 
is given by his l)iographcr. It may be briefly stated, "that 
she informed him, that although married to him, her af- 
fections had never been transferred from another to him." 
This extended notice has been given to counteract the per- 
verted statements still current in the public mind in refer- 
ence to the occurrence. 

The event was no doubt fratight with tragic feeling to 
him, that could induce or cause him to make the costly sac- 
rifice of all the grand and glowing pros]:)ects of his life. 
He resigned his position as governor of Tennessee and 
•determined to banish himself from civilized life. "When 



220 Essays and Addressks. 

a runaway boy among the Cherokee Indians, then residing 
in North Alabama, he was adopted by the chief Colooteka, 
who gave him sheher and protection." Now, he wends his 
way to the wig'wam of that same chief who had moved and 
settled in Arkansas with his tribe. He was warmly wel- 
comed, and sojourned in the family of the chief while time 
and circumstances were weaving the threads of his future 
career. 

He had now reached the meridian of life, and it might 
be supposed that he had touched the highest point of his 
greatness. It was not so decreed in the drama of coming 
events, but he was to play a more glorious part where the 
star of empire should hang suspended over San Jacinto. 

At this juncture, it may be a courtesy and a duty the 
writer of this historical etching owes to the readers of the 
Advocate to make apology or to render an explanation for 
the unusual extension of this sketch. He is apprised of the 
fact that the literary taste of the age delights in the 
ephemeral and versatile, and that the field of reading which 
the newspaper press daily opens up is so broad and varied 
that long and prosy articles are not wanted. Only the 
mere mention of things that cater to the hour is desired 
or needed. After being glanced over by the reader, all of 
them will pass away like "the blossom by the poppies shed, 
or the snowflakes upon the river." This may be true, yet 
the author as the true and faithful teacher of the public 
through the press will seek to impart solid and useful in- 
struction. 

No department of literature is more beneficial to mankind 
than the recorded lives of the good and great. All may avail 
themselves of their biography as a mirror, and learn from it 
to adjust and regulate their own conduct. Says Plutarch, 
'■ It is like living and conversing with these illustrious men, 
when I invite, as it were, and receive them, one after another, 
under my roof: when I consider how great and wonderful 
they were, and select from their actions the most memorable 
and glorious. What greater pleasure can there be? What 
happier road to virtue?" 

When the writer first applied himself to the task of writ- 
ing this etching, it was for the sake of others, but in pursuing 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 221 

the investigation of the life and actions of the hero of Texas 
independence, they have developed before him in proportions 
and moral grandeur of which he had not conceived, and, 
being profoundly impressed with the dignity and value of his 
theme, he pursued the study of it on his own account. It 
presents a biographical field so inviting to thought and reflec- 
tion, and for the interweaving of the rich colors of philos- 
ophy that delight and instruct the mind, that he cannot 
afl"ord to treat it in a cursory and mechanical way. A his- 
torical sketch, to possess any worth or merit, besides graces 
of style and other excellencies, should present true and accu- 
late lineaments of life and character and the deeds per- 
formed, that the reader may discern whether or not they 
were the work of fortune or of fortunate virtue in the actor. 

Though the century boasts of a long roll of great men, 
whose achievements were highly distinguished, yet there may 
be discerned in the actions of many of them a certain labor, 
straining effect and incongruity that diminishes their luster. 
In the role of public life, or of private station, there is not 
one action of the illustrious subject of this memorial in the 
way of magnanimity (but one has been excepted) to which 
may not be applied that passage from Sophocles: "What 
Genius or what Love placed the fair parts in this harmonious 
whole." Though unexcelled by his com])eers of the century 
in the luster of military achievement, sagacity of statesman- 
ship and eloquence of oratory, yet none have been more 
misconstrued as to his actions and character and suffered 
more from the opinions of ill-advised and malignant scrib- 
blers. The incident that the writer had the honor and privi- 
lege, when a youth, of seeing General Houston and hearing 
him converse, whilst traveling in the same car for a whole 
(lay with him, as he was passing through Georgia on his 
way, in January, 1848, to attend the Senate of the United 
States, lends to his task a fascinating interest. (This is a 
digression, but it may have its use.) 

Not the statue of bronze, nor triumphal arch of the con- 
queror, nor the pen of the historian can add to or diminish 
the honor that crowns his name and memory. His deeds, his 
worthy deeds, alone have rendered him immortal. Among 
these, as distinguished by heroic virtue and magnanimous 



222 Essays and Addresses. 

bearing, unique and of uncommon fame, was the true, hteady, 
enduring friendship that he maintained for the Indians in 
his private sentiments. In his official capacity as a member 
of Congress, both in the House of Representatives and the 
Senate, and as president and governor of Texas, he ever 
exercised a just, humane and pacific pohcy towards them.. 
Though a savage is nothing — and a whole nation of them 
panoplied in all the rights of soil, life and liberty that God 
and nature gave to them, in the eyes of the civilized Anglo 
Saxon may be nothing, as even now — yet a true and nobler 
fc.me will abound to the illustrious Houston than to those 
who have received military honors from the extermination 
of helpless nations and the conquest of their territory. The 
wreath of humanity is equally honoring to him as the victo- 
rious laurels that adorn his brown as the hero of San Jacinto. 

The part that General Houston performed in the struggle 
of Texas for independence is his chief glory. The rapidity 
with which events transpired, the double prize of the bless- 
ings of a free government and the possession of a land and 
country for a home that spread out before the vision in 
ravishing beauty of forest and prairie to an interminable 
extent, the contest as waged by a handful of people, the 
etiforts made towards laying the corner-stone of a State, the 
commencement and prosecution of hostilities, the slaughters 
of the Alamo and Goliad, the decisive battle of San Jacinto, 
and the brief space of time in which it was fought, give to 
the revolution the air of brilliant romance. In all the plans, 
measures and movements of the Texans in the struggle. Gen- 
eral Houston was the leading and master spirit, as the 
narrative of facts clearly demonstrates. 

The part that he performed in this revolution was not that 
of an adventurer seeking fortune and fame. His course and 
action in the struggle was inspired and hallowed by the flame 
of virtue. From his retreat and sojourn among the Indians, 
for three years, he had watched the progress of the occu- 
pancy of Texas soil by the people of the Anglo-Saxon race. 
He saw the inflowing tide of immigration reducing the 
tvilderness and planting civilization, the arts and letters 
where desolation had reigned for ages. In the vast energies 
of his mind he grasped the thought and realization of the 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 223 

mai^'niticeiit vision that Texas would be free, and would be 
l)e()])lcd by sons and daughters of freedom, and the ever- 
rolling tide of civilization would move westward to the 
shores of the Pacific. • 

Being sent (1833) by President Jackson on an official 
mission to Texas (to the Comanche Indians), on passing 
through Nacogdoches, he was solicited by the people of that 
town to make his home with them and become a candidate 
for election as delegate to the convention to meet on the ist 
of April, 1833, to consider the matters of the Colony. He 
was unanimously elected as delegate. 

As told in history, many things conspired to render the 
struggle of Texas for independence, its consequent success, 
and tlie laying of its corner-stone as a republic, a grand and 
nol)le theater for heroic daring and achievement. The terri- 
tory of Texas as a province of Mexico was that of an 
empire, spreading out in vast and immeasurable tracts of 
prairie and forest, rich in all the pristine loveliness and 
opulence of nature, and possessing every variety of soil and 
climate. Over it roamed the Indians, the autochthons of the 
soil, in their savage wildness and vmbounded freedom, and 
cuound it clustered here and there the dreams of romance as 
connected with the early Spanish settlers, the establishment 
of Roman Catholic missions and the building of churches 
and convents. As if in special instance, there seems to have 
been in this revolution the fulfillment of Bishop Berkely's 
notable prophecy : 

" ' Westward the star of empire fakes its way ; ' 
The four first acts are already past ; 
The fifth's but begun. Time's noblest 
Offspring is the last." 

This might be predicated of it in view of its brilliant 
events and the long series of glory that would follow. 

It wa^ upon this theatre of action that General Houston, 
now in the meridian of life, entered to play his part. Here 
he was to acquire his chief honor and renown as a soldier, a 
statesman and an orator. The grandeur of the enterprise in 
which he was called to participate and to be a leader was 
such as to arouse his highest ambition and to enlist all the 
energies and powers of his mind and soul. He was to aid a 



224 Essays and Addresses. 

pcpulation of twenty thousand of the Anglo-Saxon race, 
scattered here and there in settlements throughout the broad 
domain as described above, in the defense and vindication of 
the political rights and privileges which had been pledged 
and guaranteed unto. them as immigrants, against the tyr- 
anny and encroachments of the military despot that had 
seized upon the supreme government of the republic (Mex- 
ico). 

In the part he played as statesman, it might be said of him, 
as ancient Roman Cato, the Censor, exclaimed of Scipio sur- 
na)ned Nasica, when in his old age he heard of the exploits 
of this rising young Roman: " He is the soul of council, 
the rest are shadows vain." Yet there were men of talent 
and education among the leading spirits of the Texan revo- 
lution who had come from other States to participate in the 
struggle. There were Stephen Austin, Rusk, Archer, the 
Whartons and others — men noted for their intelligence and 
ability. Houston, in the majesty of his person and intellect, 
towered among them and was the guiding spirit in the coun- 
cils of the infant republic. It might be said of hini. as it 
was of Bonaparte, that it was difficult to decide whether his 
genius was greater in the cabinet or in the field. 

In many instances his political sagacity was evoked and 
exercised at such crises and under such exigencies in the 
deliberative assemblies of the inci])ient nationality of whicii 
he was a member, that it served to avert the adoption of 
ini])olitic measures that would have imperiled the fair hopes 
ol liberty to Texas, and even the existence of it as a province. 
So opportune were these interventions of his political fore- 
sight and wisdom, that it seemed that his mission as an actor 
and a leading spirit in the drama of Texas liberty was of 
divine ordination and prophetic fulfillment. Those enemies 
of his, who even at this remote period, in their contributions 
to literary magazines and newspaper articles, would assail 
Iiis reputation and bear away from him the laurels of San 
Jacinto, admit " that as a statesman he is entitled to much 
credit. They concede that he was a far-seeing man, and had 
much confidence in himself, and possessed a high order of 
ability." 

It is as the Commander-in-Chief of the little Texan army 
and the achievement of the brilliant victory of San lacinto 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 225 

that have crowned in history the name of Sam Houston with 
iionor and renown. That lie possessed liii^ii military jj^enius 
and the qualities that make the great general was demon- 
strated in the hrief display of the hattle of San Jacinto. The 
victory was won by strategy and heroism. In regard to this 
battle and victory fought and won in a quarter of an hour, it 
is said by the historian that in view of " the meagerness of 
the forces engaged and the amazing results that ensued, they 
stand un])aralleled in human history. With the victory of 
San Jacinto a new era dawned upon the Western Continent." 
To be a soldier and to acquire military distinction was tho 
Lent and ambition of his mind. 

" Numerous were the devices by which he maintained dis- 
cipline over his brave, heroic, but too often waywa'Tl and 
reckless men. His methods were his own, and concealed in 
his own bosom. The belief became general that Houston was 
the only man in the workl that could have kept the army in 
subjection, or achieved the indei)endence of Texas, or pre- 
served it after it was won." 

It may be further said of Houston that heacquired a just 
fame, not only as a soldier and statesman, but also as an 
orator. To use the words of Archilochus, the ancient Greek 
poet, he could justly claim " the palms of Mars and laurels of 
the Muse." In most governments in the managemenc of 
public affairs the civil and military departments are kept 
separate and distinct. Those in the one usually confine them- 
selves to the rostrum and the arts of speech ; those in the 
other to the honors and employments of the camp. But 
Phocion, the ancient Athenian statesman, chose rather to 
move in the walk of Pericles, Aristides and Solon, who 
excelled not only as orators, but as generals : for he thought 
this made their fame more complete. Says Pericles, "Rhet- 
oric is the art of ruling the minds of men, and that its 
principal province consists in moving the passions and afifcc- 
ticns of the soul, which, like so many strings in a musical 
instrument, require the touch of a masterlv and delicate 
l^.and." 

Truly did Houston find and realize that his oratory was of 
•excellent use to him in the station he filled and the part he 
performed in the revolutionary struggle of Texas. It gave 



226 Essays and Addresses. 

to his talents and actions as a soldier and statesman great 
efficiency and power. In the deliberative assemblies of the 
young republic "the measures he proposed were wise and 
happy ones, and his counsels of the most salutary kind, yet 
he used no flowers of rhetoric ; his speeches were concise,, 
commanding and severe." Thrice, and again, according to 
historical record, did he save Texas from peril and ruin by 
his wise, fervent and patriotic speeches. In this special fame 
he may justly vie with Demosthenes, Cicero and Patrick 
Henry, who, as history reports, at marked crises each, by his 
eloquence, saved his country. 

In the closing series of this historical etching, the writer 
profoundly realizes how inadequate they have been, in view 
of their brief scope, to portray in all their just proportions 
and features the life and character of the hero of San 
Jacinto. It may be that the task accomplished has been a 
fruitless and an idle one, and has scarcely met with a passing- 
notice from the public mind. The events of that obscure 
period in the history of the country and century will be 
barely observed amidst the splendor and overwhelming inter- 
est of the scenes and events transpiring upon the world's 
stage of action at the present. However this may be, the 
student of history, in his walk through the gallery of the 
legislators and founders of States of Greek and Roman fame 
ill ■' Plutarch's lives," or even of modern times, will meet 
with no statesmanship wiser, more judicious and salutary 
than that displayed by General Houston in his administration 
Oi the government of the infant republic of Texas during his 
two terms as President. 

" The condition of afifairs after the battle of San Jacinto,"' 
says the historian, " was one of discord and confusion. Dis- 
content was universal. The Government ad interim had not 
been able to pursue a line of policy generally acceptable. The 
convention which had adopted the Constitution at Washing- 
ton in the previous month of March had made provisions for 
the crisis, and, accordingly, writs were issued for the election 
of a president by the people of Texas. Two candidates were 
named — Gen. Stephen F. Austin and ex-Governor Henry 
Smith. The latter was an excellent man and a patriot ; the 
former had the love of all parties, and will always be 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 227 

regarded as the Father of Texas. Houston, importuned to 
become a candidate, would not consent- until twelve days 
before the election. He was elected, receiving 4,374 votes ; 
Henry Smith, 743 ; Stephen F. Austin, 587 ; total vote, 
5.704." The people saw that at that time there was only one 
man in Texas who could sway the multitude, whose strong 
hand and sagacious mind could guide and steer the vessel of 
State through the boisterous surges, and that man was Sam 
Houston, the hero of San Jacinto. 

Perhaps no founder of a State or political leader in marked 
crises of the government, either in ancient or modern times, 
had greater difficulties to contend with than General Hous- 
ton in his administration of the affairs of the nascent 
republic. It was "without a dollar and without credit; a 
government was to be created from chaos." The population, 
heterogeneous in character and different in nativity, habits 
and social sentiments and accustomed to the unrestrained 
liberty of frontier life, were to be brought from anarchy and 
confusion and placed under the firm and mild control of 
constitutional law. Such was said to be the personal influence 
of Sam Houston over the wild elements of Texas society that 
he ruled them as readily by the mild sway of civil law as by 
the rod of military power. He had the confidence of the 
masses. The language of the people was "As long as Old 
Sam is at the helm, the ship of State is safe." Whilst he was 
rearing the structure of government he was much harassed 
by petty intrigues and confronted b}' formidable combina- 
tions of a clique of unscrupulous men, who, to accomplish 
their ambitions -and mercenary designs and interests, would 
not have hesitated to sap the foundations of the young 
republic. Fie unwaveringly kept the public good in view, and 
pursued the path of honor. 

At this period there occurred a passag;e in the life of Gen- 
eral Houston highly appropriate for transcription from his 
historian, as being illustrative of his eminent and varied tal- 
ents and of the afifectionate and exalted esteem in which he 
was held by the people of Texas. It was the closing scenes 
of his first administration as president of the republic and the 
inauguration of a new president. A vast concourse, larger 
than ever had assembled before in Texas, had gathered to 



228 Essays and Addresses. 

witness the ceremonies. The Inauguration Committee had 
made no arrangement on their program for the deHvery of 
his valedictory address. The assembled multitudes, in a 
burst of indignation, clamored for the hero of San Jacinto. 
Ht came to the front of the Capitol. A wild shout of enthu- 
siasm rent the sky as the people gazed upon his lofty, ample 
and heroic form, relieved against the portrait of George 
Washington, which was suspended behind him. 

"For three hours he held the thousands before him under 
the force of his impetuous eloquence. The scroll of the 
history of Texas was unrolled, her future policy was por- 
trayed ; her future destiny, if a sound policy was pursued, was 

set forth in prophetic speech The tears streamed 

down his face as, in conclusion, he took farewell of the 
people he loved. Extending his broad arms over the people, 
he poured out from his great heart the benediction of a true 
patriot and invincible soldier. The vast multitude responded 
with tears to tears. The still murmur of subdued feeling 
closed the excitement of the solemnly moving scene. Houston 
had demonstrated all the qualities of soldier, statesman and 
•orator, and in each character had placed his name on the 
rolls of immortality." 

His career in the United States Congress, both in the 
House of Representatives and in the Senate, was marked 
with honor and luster. In each body his contemporaries 
were among the most illustrious statesmen of American his- 
torv, and he held an honorable rank among them. It is said 
in high encomium of him, that " No man ever left Washing- 
ton City with such unanimous esteem for mingled nobleness 
of character and faithfulness in action as Sam Houston." 

An important event in his life, and the grand feature and 
true element of greatness in his character was his profession 
of the Christian religion. Though it was late in life, yet 
there is no doubt but that he experienced the saving grace 
and power of the Gospel and became a sincere Christian. His 
first marriage and abrupt divorce was a sad chapter in his 
life. His occasional spells of intoxication from indulgence 
in strong drink, resorted to as a solace for his sorrows, were 
spots upon the disc of his fair fame. His incurable wound, 
with its constant pain and issue, was a lifelong thorn in the 



The Hero of San Jacinto. 229 

flesh or the shirt of Nessus to him. "These were the sHngs 
of outrageous fortune" to diminish his fehcity and renown, 
lest they might become too great for human pride to bear. 
His strong, invincible and abiding love for the Union, as 
evinced both in his private sentiment and public acts, was 
memorable. Its last gleam went out only at death. The 
secession of the South and his deposition from the office of 
Governor, like dark clouds, eclipsed the brightness of the 
setting sun of life with him. Yet amidst all these compli- 
cated evils, where shall we find a man that bore his afflictions, 
great and majestic in his ills, like him ? On the 26th of July, 
1863, his spirit passed into the presence of God. He was 
attended by admiring friends in his sickness and death, and 
he conversed fully on his soul's welfare with Rev. Mr. Cock- 
erel, pastor of the Huntsville Presbyterian Church. 

To affix the standard of Houston's greatness or his place 
among the eminent men of the century in American history 
is no easy task. He was remarkable for his physical and 
intellectual attributes, his qualities as a soldier, an orator and 
a statesman. Apart from these, it must be conceded that 
hi^ military achievements in the Texan revolution, his states- 
menship in laying the foundation of a republic and sustaining 
h through all its years of anarchy and weakness, and his 
diplomacy in thwarting the efforts of France and England 
each to establish their suzerainty over Texas soil, and his 
finally securing the annexation of Texas to the United States 
— all render his public career sublime and his fame unrivaled. 

To him and to him alone, in his love for the United States 
as the land of his nativity, and the Union as the bond and 
pledge of their glory, do they, as a nation, owe the extension 
of their territory from the Atlantic to the Pacific ocean in 
its full clasp, and their present proud position among the 
kingdoms and principalities of the world. Only a simple 
marble slab marks his last resting-place in the cemetery at 
Huntsville, bearing the inscription : General Sam Houston, 
born March 2d, 1793. Died July the 26th, 1863. 



230 Essays and Addresses. 



GENERAL P. G. T. BEAUREGARD. 

The historian in easy narrative may write of science, Ht- 
eraturc. the arts of government, and of men and things in 
social and puhhc life, but when he touches upon war, 
speaks of the military skill of the commanders, the points 
of strategy in the martial exploits which determine vic- 
tory or defeat to the opposing armies, the task becomes del- 
icate and ditficult. Who, with mind and pen e(|ual to the 
ordeal, may describe the slow movements of mighty armies 
by land and sea, the advance and retreat of the serried 
hosts, and the various contingencies upon which hang vic- 
tory or defeat? Who nuay portray the loud peal of the 
drum, the shrill blast of the bugle, the gleam of arms, the 
charging squadrons, the trying steeds, the pallid counte- 
nances of men, the shouts of leaders, and all the horrific sights 
and sounds with which fierce battle is waged? Who can 
with just discrimination distinguish wherlier the valor of 
the soldiers, or the military skill of the leaders, or blind 
chance has decided the conilict? 

AVhen civil war, or arms stained with the blood of coun- 
trymen unappeased, is the subject, the oft-quoted poet Hor- 
ace, in an ode to C. Asinius Pollio. a distinguished Roman, 
who was writing a history of the wars of the two triumvi- 
rates which had stained every sea and enriched every land 
with Roman bh^od, says (as expressed in English) it is a 
work full (U' danger and peril. 'I'his to the Roman historian, 
shouUl he happen to s]x'ak unadvisedly of the "powers that 
be," might bring confiscation of property or loss of life, 
but not to the American or Southerner in regard to the 
late war. The political proscription following the subjuga- 
tion of the South did not take away freedom of speech. 
The tongue of the American citizen is free, and he some- 
times lets it wag t(^(i freely. The danger to him is that as 
a writer, he may not do justice to the dead, to some fallen 
hero, as he treads among the memories of the battle-fields 
of the late war. or it may be to awaken unpleasant contro- 
versy through the press upon issues and principles claimed 
as causes of the war that still exists and are cherished. 



General P. G. T. BkaurkctArd, 231 

When the Latin poet was asked to celebrate in song the 
praises of Augustus Caesar and his minister Agrippa, the 
sentiment of his re])ly was that he would as soon undertake 
to describe in worthy strain the god of battles enwrapped 
in his adamantine tunic, or any of the heroes of the Iliad 
as to attempt to tell of the fame of the royal Qesar and his 
minister. He would not from want of talent on his part 
detract from the luster of their achievements. The same 
loftiness of theme presents itself, and the same delicacy of 
feeling fills the heart and mind in speaking of the renown 
of the illustrious military chief of the Confederacy, Gen- 
<:ral 1'. < i. T. Beauregard. The battle of Manassas, the 
first grand battle of the civil war fought and won, gave 
liim his fame. First of all his military compeers, his star 
of glory rose above the horizon. Though it suffered no 
eclipse from disaster and defeat thereafter, yet the bril- 
liancy of its dawn did not result in the glorious future 
l)redicated. Why this was the case justice to his name 
and character rccjuires due explanation. It has been ex- 
])lained upon the ground of dissatisfaction with the treat- 
ment he received from Confederate authorities immediately 
after the victory he had won. It may be said at this point 
he was promoted to the rank of a full general in token of 
his merit and his services. So far as tlu- pageantry and 
rank of title is concerned this seemed to l)e a full reward, 
'i'hough not continued in tlie command of the Confeclcrate 
forces in the field of active military o])erations against 
tlie enemy, yet he was honored with the confidence of the 
government and had command of the .Sonth de])artment 
•of the Confederacy. 

Tt has been and is still asserted that General T'eauregard 
1)ecame dissatisfied after the 1)attle of Manassas because 
he was not promoted to seniority of command and rank 
above Generals Lee and Jr)hnston. Tt is also attributed to 
the assum|)tion that he was not allowed by superior author- 
ity to inirsue the enemy on to Washington after the battle, 
and thus to reap the fruits of his glory and victory. As 
to the first charge it may be said, that no doubt the flream 
of nn'litary glory filled the h(>arts of many gallant spirits 
who entered upon the tented field at the o])eniiig of tlie 



232 Essays and Addressks. 

civil war. Tt may well be sui)i)osed that this noble soit 
of Louisiana felt its quickening pulse when in his deep 
patriotism he tendered his services to the Confederate gov- 
ernment at an early period. The martial spirit had come 
down to him from his Gallic ancestors unimpaired by the 
ages. Though American born, yet no doubt the annals of war- 
like France, the mother-land, and the exploits of her heroic 
sons in war fired his soul with passion for glory. Now Hashed 
before his mind the dazzling career of the first Napoleon, 
the world-renowned Bonaparte. Though it had been half 
a century since the star of this military hero had gone 
down upon the fatal field of Waterloo, yet it still flamed 
before the world like a giant comet in the sky. His in- 
fluence and the genius of his military tactics may be tracedi 
in the plans of the cani])aign General Beauregard had 
formed prior to the battle of Manassas. It may be said of 
him and other sons of the South during the war that they 
did not permit their ambition to mar or tarnish their de- 
votion to their country. Imt with ancient Spartan virtue 
could rejoice that the South hail nobler sons than they. 

Tt may be said of General Beauregard that he was rather 
a military scientist, than a great commander. There is a 
magnetic jiower in the form. s[)eech, and manner of the 
leaders of men in peace or war. Alexander had it, so did 
Julius Gx'sar, Washington. IJonajxirte. Lee, Stonewall 
Jackson. The appearance of Bonaparte on the field of bat- 
tle would arouse the enthusiasm of his soldiers. When he 
made his escape from the island of Elba to which he had 
been confined by the allies after his abdication as iMuj^eror 
of France, his appearance and presence to his soldiery awak- 
ened the shout. 'A'ive le Fmpcreur." and put a hundred 
thousand men at his commantl. After the lapse of three 
{juaiters of a centm-y his name will arouse the hearts of 
I'Venchmen. The person and demeanor of Washington 
crowned him as the king of men. Grand, glorious and un- 
dying does Robert E. Lee live in the memory of his sol- 
diers and in the hearts of the people of the South. Stone- 
wall Jackson bad those qualities which made him the idol 
of Ins men. E(|ual to any in honor, love and confidence 
of I'is soldiers was Joseph E. Johnston. The traits of 



Oknhrai. p. G. T. Bhaurkgard. 233. 

character in military commanders which give inspiration, 
courage and concinering might to an army might have shone 
forth brightly in ( leneral iJeanregard had he continued in 
active field service and been brought near his men in the 
comn'on perils and jeopardy of battle. There was com- 
mand in his ])resence, and as he would sweep on horseback 
in ra])id gallop through the streets of Savannah and with 
eagle eye take in at a glance the passers-by qn the side- 
walk, one could feel that he was a master spirit. 

The battle of Manassas was to the Confederate forces a 
hard-fought field. The victory won was extraordinary in 
view of the disparity of numbers and the etiuipment of 
arms, as compared with the Union army, and will be ever 
notable in the annals of military 'achievements. The glad 
news was hailed by the South with rejoicing and tbanks- 
gtvmg to Almighty God. 

The defeat, rout and panic of the b\"dcral hosts were so 
great and overwhelming as rei)ortcd by the press through- 
out the land, that the inquiry arose in the popidar mind 
why were they not ])ursued and the glorious trium])h of 
the caj)ture of Washington City added to the brilliant vic- 
tory obtained ? This sentiment found ready utterance anct 
was strengthened l)y the press in its comments, and editors, 
self-installed as the "mappery and closet" generals of the 
war, became oracular in military affairs, and prescribed that 
the enemy, filled with dread and consternation and with 
ranks shattered, should have been ])ursued by dcneral 
Ucauregard, and further stated, would have been had higher 
oiYicial authority not prevented him. 

This opinion respecting the matter prevalent then ob- 
tains in the minds of many even to-day, although thirty- 
six years have transpired since the close of the war, and 
now as well as then, the conduct of high Confederate offi- 
cials as resi)f)nsible for the default is censured. The cause 
of truth, imnnUable and obligatory ever in its claims at 
the hands of mankind, as well as justice to the posthu- 
mous honor of the illustrious dead, requires a thorough in- 
vestigation of all facts connected as made above. 

The circumstances of the battle as it was fought by the 
Confederate army and gathered from official reports fully 



234 Essays and Addrhssks. 

show that the pursuit of the foe was impracticable. At 
one tiuie during" the conflict the Confederates were defeated, 
and were saved from utter rout and ruin by the indomita- 
ble courage of General T. J. Jackson, who here received his 
baptism of fire and acquired his soubriquet as "Stonewall," 
and by General Kirby Smith arriving on the field of battle 
at an opportune time, and striking the enemy in flank on 
the right. Again, it was not known to the Confederates 
how complete was their victory until next day. Moreover, 
at night when the fighting ceased, "the troops were weary, 
hungry, scattered and without supplies." As if kind nature 
would inter])ose to obstruct the pursuit of the routed foe and 
to prevent their rallying to return to the fight, "a rainfall ex- 
traordinary for its violence and duration occurred the next 
day, and where, during the battle, one could scarcely get a 
drink of water, in the afternoon of the J2d rolled tor- 
rents difficult to cross." All these impediments obstructed 
the pursuit which public surmise and speculation predicted 
should have been made. 

The statement of General Ueauregard, who was in com- 
mand during the fight, in his report of the battle to the Con- 
federate secretary of war, was that he did not pursue the 
enemy "from want of supplies and means of transporta- 
tion." This, in view of other invincible facts, has been 
regarded rather as an excuse to meet the complaint made 
by the press and the people. General losej^h E. Johnston 
as in chief command, says, in his report of the battle to the 
secretary of war, that tlie pursuit was "obstructed" by the 
enemy's troops at Centerville, and the condition and inade- 
quate means of the army in ammunition, provisions, and 
transportaticMi jirevented any serious thought of advancing 
against the ca])ital. 

President Davis, who was present and on the field of 
battle a part of the time, and against whom the allegation 
was made that he interfered and prevented pursuit of the 
enemv, in his "Rise and Progress of the Confederate Gov- 
ernment," presents the full text of this question with all 
the facts and circumstances connected with it. As re- 
viewed and reported in all its points and features by him. he 
justified the militarv wisdom and ]M-udence of General John- 



Gknkral p. G. T. I>kaurkgari). 235 

ston in his decision and action of declining to pursue the 
<.'nemy. The faiku'e of the South in this instance to reap 
the fruits of victory in the battles won was strangely and 
sadly prophetic of its fortune throughout the war. 

The pen of the historian and the song of the poet record 
the deeds, embalm the virtues and transmit the memory 
■of illustrious leaders to posterity. If they be silent, no one 
will reap his reward for what he may have laudably accom- 
plished. Many brave men have lived before Agamennion, 
but the unknown and unlamented are oppressed with a 
long night for the want of a poet to celebrate their praises. 
What would the son of JV'lars and Ilia be, if invidious si- 
lence had stifled the merits of Ronnilus? The power, fa- 
vor and the lays of bards consecrate to immorlality, and 
place in the islands of the blessed the renowned warri(jrs of 
the past. 

The muse of song and history forbids that any one wor- 
thy of praise should die. Thus does every true son and 
(laughter of the South feel towards every man \vl o shoul- 
<lered his musket, enlisted in the Confederate army, and for 
four long years fought for freedom and Southern independ- 
ence. Not one, even the humblest soldier in ranks, should 
be omitted from the roll of fame. 

Each mounlain rill and each mighty river 
Sh.ouUl roil mingling with his fame forever. 

Then, in writing of General P. G. T. Beauregard what pen 
would touch upon those points and actions in his military 
career that fail to ])reserve the luster of his early fame? 
They stand upon historic record. They may detract from 
his standing as a military man, but no unkind criticisms 
should be allowed to creep among the laurels of victory 
won at Manassas. Allusion is made to his retreat after 
the battle of Shiloh, when he succeeded General A. S. John- 
ston ; to his leaving the army at Corinth in charge of 
General Bragg; to his being relieved of his command and 
General Josej)li E. Johnston being appointed in his stead 
in the closing hours of the war. His merits will compare 
favorably with many of the military leaders on either side. 
R. E. Lee, A. S. Johnston, Stonewall Jackson, and J. E. 



236 Essays and Addrkssfs. 

Johnston stand as the ilhistrious quartette of the C(^nfe(l- 
eiate side. Many others achieved worthy fame and are 
entitled to hij;h rank in point of military skill as comman- 
ders of reg-iments. brigades, and divisions, but could not have 
successfully planned the movements of a great army. 

No Souliiern State was more nol)ly represented than Lou- 
isiana by the talent of her sons in the cabinet of the gov- 
ernment and the bravery of her soldiers upon the field of 
battle during the brief period of the Confederate republic. 
No State suffered more hutuiliation, outrage and spoliation 
at the hands of the conqueror when the proud hopes of the 
South were overthrown and defeat and subjugation came. 
She perished not under the grinding heel of nu'litary des- 
potism, and invincible she stands erect from the ruin and 
desolation of war and Hood in all the years of the past. En- 
couched in repose upon the waters of the gulf and witli 
her metrc^jiolis. the Crescent City, the commercial mart of 
the South, she may look forward to the future with hope. 

Well luay she be proud of her historic record. Tier sons 
have guerdoned her with the glory of their deeds. Well 
may she cherish them, tlvMr names and memories, with the 
fond tenderness which the pelican, her chosen escutcheon, 
is fabled to show for her yoimg. and to no one of them 
mav she more wtH'thily render the homage ami perpetuation 
that marble and bronze and letters can give than to the 
distinguislKHl subject of this sketch. 



TEXAS TALENT. 



As the time of my subscription {ov the Advocate will soon' 
expire, and as my stock of sense, though small, is larger than 
my fund of cents, T would modestly propose to pay for the 
extension of my subscription by contributions from my pen. 
It may be that you have no need of my literary aid and that 
mv cents would be a more available asset than my sense. This 
should be reatlily inferred from the fact that the Publishing 
Committee, in their wisdom and judgment, considered that 
vou were possessed of that intellectual ability and literary 



Texas Tai.knt. . 237 

culture that vvcnikl fitly (jualify yuu to occupy the editorial 
tripod of the Advocate, the official orj:jan of the live Annual 
Conferences of the State of Texas. The many conq-ratula- 
tions that you are receiving attest that ymi have been emi- 
nently successful in your debut and role as editor, and that 
you are fully comju'tent for the duties and responsibilities of 
the position. 

The tide of [)opular applause is al\va\s in favor of the new 
man. It is an old-time trick for men lo worship the rising 
sun. 'i'hc sun, as it comes rejoicing in the east, bears the 
promise of a golden day in antici])ation, and slundd neces- 
sarily awaken more admiration than when it declines its head 
on the western horizon, though pavilioned w^ith all the j)omp 
and glory of the magic hues of light, for its work is then 
finished. The newly-crowned man of the present will more 
engage the public mind than he whose career is comi)lete, 
though " his sunset \)v (iNcr-browed with laurels." Such may 
be the case, but il nnist bi' conciMk^d (hat your management 
of the Advocate has been a brilliant success, and that you 
justly deserve 4:he tributes of praise which have been rendered 
you. ft is superlluous for any one, then, to olTei- \i)U the aid 
of his brain and pen. 

Then, in your editorial ca])acity, \<)U have at command as 
sj)ecial and enlisted contributors the itinerancy of the five 
conferences. What a ])roud arra\' of intellect is here! There 
should be in it genius of every stani]), talent of every order 
and learning of every degree. The arena of nn"nd here pre- 
sented, in its com])ass and in the variety and opulence of its 
f.<3wcring of thought, has a fit emblematic representation in 
the prairies of the State in their unmeasured expanse of 
verdure and in the flowers that in endless i)rofusion and 
beauty in the sj)ringtime bedecked them in the days before 
they were trodden by the foot of civilized man or u])turned 
by his ploughshare. With such a vast list of contributors at 
your service, the colunms of the Advocate shoidd bourgeon 
with all the graces and beauties of literature, show u]) every 
phase of spiritual ex])crience and sweetly unfold the sublime 
teachings of the Scriptures. The editor, with such an ecjuip- 
ment of auxiliary forces, may lay claim to be Briarean- 



238 



I'.ss.ws AND .\i»i)ui:ssi';s. 



li;iiiili(l .111(1 AiiMis cv I'd. W li;il need has hr ol \'viiit I ibtilions 
li'Mii llic |i('n (i| r\c\] a I'.uiK' and polislu'd writoi"? 

^ oil 1 1 111 \ tirsi'i \ r wi'll ol llic iliiuTaiit hitilii'i'ii and .slunild 
iicrivc llir liciih sii|i|i(ii I (d llicii |h'ii, |iiirM' and ililllU'itrc in 
Vdin l.ilxHs as I'dildi, 111 irlniii loi llu- spimdid otu-oinimns 
Vdii passcil iipdii llu'iii, indi\ idii.ilU and riillniivrlw in Noni' 
w rilr np (d llii liv (■ (■( vnl'rn'iuis. 1 1 is pr. ihaMr Ilia I llu' \ ilal 
t|iu'sl ion (il llu' spii iln.il dcilinr ol llu' ( Innrli w ill oprn np a 
liioad and hnillnl licld (d disi'ussioii. .\l.in\ will lie llir 
opiniiins cNprrssi'd and (lir llu-orics pri'sonlrd in solnlion ol 
llir c.insi' (d llu' spiiiln.d di'arlli and siiL;.i;rslioiis ol ilic 
n llK'dirs I li.il .should hr applied. 

As a roiil rihnloi- lo ihr \<l\oraU-, I i-oiild I'ninish Iroin ni\ 
lilfrar\ rrpnlonc .1 porin now and lluai ioi pnhliralion. 
lluMc aic lliosc who rri.;ai(l poclix as loo rpluMiu-ial, l(u> 
duain\ an .illaii. loi ihis pr.uih-.d ,ind rn.shinL; aj^w Willi 
llu'in porlir .sriisc has no \.ihu' roinp.ncd wilh linanidal mils. 



nu'lodii'S of \ci sr. I he k'oniaii port (hid irlalcs lli.il when 
In^ lalluT would dissuade liiin Imni ihe enllnre (d IrlU-rs, 
and rsprri.ilh I'lom losU'init; Ins laslr and m'nins lur w riliiii^' 
pod I \ , ri'in.ii krd to liiiii : " I loiiuT lei I no w I'.illh." I he itid 
hnnd t iieek poel, who weni aiiunid Iroiii eil\ lo eil\ sin-^ini; 
loi Ills hie, id, lell no esl.ile 1101 nelies, hnl he lell his Iliad. 
,in iinperish.ihle (leasnie ol dehj^hl lo inankind in ,ill aj^es. 
rile .'^eoteli poet I'.iilev, in his "hestns," he.inlitnllx sa\s, 
" I'oel 1 \ is .1 ihini; id ( .od, i le 111,1 de his prophet ■■. poels ; and 
the iiioie we leel ol poes\ the inoie we ,ire like him in lo\-e 
and pow ei." In the son-; (d ."-Solomon , 01 (, ant leles, the w liter, 
in the deseriplion »d the ^raees ol ( Inist ,ind id the ( "liiiieh, 
Ins sponse, and their nintnal lo\i" lor eaeh other, re.iehes the 
v'liin,i\ ol poi-tie,il iiiet,iphor and ideal expression. Ilie pies 
enl eentinx li.is heen piolilie ol small poems, spiin^iiiL; np 
luiA' and tliei'i' in the monthlies and the nooks and eonuMS 
(d new sp.ipeis, like 1 uses m the ;;.ii den (^y \ iolels in the wild 
wood, 1 ike the llowers w itli w liieli the\ avc eonii>aied, 111. in\ 
(d them aie ihiiii^s ol heantx .iinl gladness, and liom the 
silent folds ol" the piess pfoekiim .111 evanj^el pure and nplifl 
\u^ to tho .soids id' men. ddiese alone should lind a plaee in 
llie eoliinuis of a lelii^iiMis jonnial. 



Poi'/ruv, FCtc. 239 



POETRY, ETC. 

Yours of the ifAh of l'\'l)niai-\' iiotif\iniL;- 1110 tliat my poem 
and prose article were accepled, and thai they would be 
pubHshed in (hu- time, was a ])leasanl missive. It was 
" sweet as honey in my moulh." — as to St. John was the 
" little book " seen by him in apoealN'i)tic vision and which he 
was commanded by the angel to eat. The freedom of the 
columns of the Advocate was ati honor and a privilege to 
be liigbly esteemed. It snlTnsed my mind with tlie pleasing 
ho])e and anticipation that it was one sti'p in tlie path to 
b.terary notice and at some da\' to the laurel that crowns the 
author. As a month has elapsed, and neither poem nor ])rose 
aiticle has appeared in the colutuns of the Advocate, the 
thought comes in mind the "sweet" may change to the 

bitter," as did the " little book " to the apostle when lu- 
ll ad eaten it. 

1 really desired to see my literary productions in print, as 
lliey had met from you a fa\orable ex])ression of o])inion ; 
and then I wanted to see how often the editorial stylus had 
been turned, and what corrections were made. Tn writing the 
little ]x)em, I knew that I did not bestride the vaulting steed 
of the Muses, fametl in ancient classic nnth, that bears the 
poet to the high heaven of invention, and which Aeschylus, 
the old Greek bard, so sublimely rode. No, mv Pegasus was 
ot ])ony size, and though breathing Texas air, did not have 
the curvettings of the herv broncho, but with iambic step 
and letraiueter speed mo\ed .along with ambling gate, as 
shown in the melodious flow of the \'ei'se. 

The poem may have but little oi- no merit, and though T 
and others who essay to write poetry may not have the gift of 
song, yet there is poetic genius in the South, and it should 
receive kind and fostering care from the Southern press and 
Southern literar\- taste. The cidture of literature on the part 
of its sons and daughters has nu't with scant recognition and 
I-a.tronage from the South. It seems as if the manufactmMug 
jmd political vassalage in which it is held l)y the North like- 
wise extends to literatm-e and its pursuits. Shall .Southern 
pi'us with sketches pa\ tribute of homage to Northern 



240 Essays and Addresses. 

writers and let Southern authors pass unnoticed? Is there 
no golden rod of Hermes but in Northern clime? Is there no 
flowery mount of Helicon or Pierian spring save in New 
England? The intellect of the South is broad, versatile and 
acute, and has shown itself in the past as capable of all that 
is beautiful in literature and profound in statesmanship, and 
it should not submit to literary thralldom. The ocean rolled 
not back when Canute gave command, nor should any earthly 
power stay the freedom of the human mind. 

The Latin jioet Horace says that neither men, nor the 
gods, nor booksellers' shelves, regard with favor mediocre 
poets. In the present day, when everywhere in the realm of 
letters human thought and fancy are developing and seeking 
publicity through the public prints, it is reasonable to suppose 
that some inferior literature would be written. Iliere are 
those who imagine they have poetic genius, whose Pegasus, 
it symbolized, would have his counterpart in Rosinante. the 
steed of Don Quixote, or that of Hudibras, " with body long, 
lean, lank and limber," rather than the sun-bright courser 
that stands hard by the fountain of the muses. The writing 
of poetry is an aspiration after the ideal, and the ideal is 
always uplifting to the mind. Editors cannot afford to inflict 
the reading of ])oetic effusions that have neither thought nor 
melody upon their readers, in order to gratify the literary 
vanity of any individual. With the pure, the good and the 
beautiful in thought and language as the criterion of merit, 
they can readily decide what articles should be accepted or 
cast into the waste-basket. 



YOUNG MEN J'S. OLD MEN. 

" Young men for war (or action) and old men for coun- 
sel " is a brief and sententious maxim. It bears in its origin 
the stamp of classic antiquity. It was some Greek sage, or 
])erhaps Demosthenes, the sagacious and eloquent Athenian 
orator, who pronounced it. Whatever may be its source, it 
defines clearly, and no doubt wisely, the spheres of the two 
classes of mankind respectively as to age, in the affairs of 



Young Men vs. Old Men. 241 

life. The strength of youth and the wisdom of gray hairs 
are both requisite, and form a happy combination to carry on 
the great enterprises of society. They have thus been con- 
sentaneously conjoined by the centuries of the past, neither 
having precedence of the other, but each having its special 
sphere and line of duty. This principle has been recognized 
and observed by those who have guided the affairs of Church 
•or State, in their appointments to office when the adaptation 
■of the means to the end controlled their decision. 

It seems from the article of R. C. Armstrong in the 
Advocate of June 22 that in the cabinets and councils of the 
Church (M. E., S.) there appears to be a tendency to dis- 
criminate against age and to give preference to youth in the 
matter of appointments. What prevalence and force such a 
•sentiment has in the administration of the affairs of the 
Church, those can determine who have given the matter close 
attention and study. That there is and has been a decline in 
the deference that should be paid to the experience of age is 
clearly evident. This may be attributed to the trend of the 
age, and prol)ably in a great measure to the peculiar phases 
•of American society. 

The disposition and tendency spoken of, however, is not 
confined to the policy of ecclesiastical organizations, but 
ffnds a place in the learned professions, at least in that of 
teaching. Teachers who have spent long years of study in 
the acquisition of their stores of learning, and have had large 
experience in the schoolroom, are often set aside for the 
young nornialites, who, with a nimble wit and in a short 
time, have compassed the text-books of the schools. 

The nations of antiquity paid great reverence and honor 
to their old men, and it was held by them as a badge of 
national virtue. It was thus with Egypt, Rome and Greece. 
In their deliberative assemblies, the advice and opinion of 
their aged warriors and statesmen were held in high regard. 
As told in Homeric verse, often did the Greeks in the siege 
of ancient Troy seek counsel at the hands of Nestor, whose 
duration of life had extended through two and a half gener- 
ations of men. Often did the sweet-tongued speaker of Pylia 
arise in the assembly, and, with the words falling from his 
16 si 



242 Essays and Addresses. 

li|)S i^ciUlv ;is snowllakrs upon tlu'ir hearts and iniiuls, did he 
j^uidc in the councils of the ( Jreeks. 

Not to rise up in the presence of an at^ed ])ers()n was 
ref^ardcd by the ancient Romans as a crime wortliy of death ; 
and tlie ne.q'lect of this observance was deemed by Juvenal as 
an aw fid mark of the dej^-eneracy of his times, {''oroig'ners 
claim to have discovered this defect of moral virtue, espe- 
cirdly of the respect of children to parents, in the social status 
and bearin,^; of the people of the llnited States. Tn the race 
for wealth, i)ower and ])leasure, and the en_<;ai;'ement of their 
material and intellectual prof^ress and interests, they have 
overlooked and neglected the close cultm-e of the moral 
virtues. There is no doubt j^reat reason to proclaim anew to 
them the Mosaic precept: "Thou shalt rise up before the 
lioarv head, and honor the face of the old man, and honor tliv 
God.'" 

" ]~)efert"nce is the most comi)licate, the most indirect and 
the most elet;ant of all com])liments," says Shenstone. It 
should be rendered to the olcl in the amenities of social life. 
It may sometimes be the case that old age is too tenacious of 
the respect and deference due to it, and may lay claim tO' 
recoj^uition and preferment that would be inexpedient to 
grant. Intellectual and moral litness for the position or the 
work nuist necessarily control those invested with authority 
in their selection and appointments of men to oflice and duty. 
It is not to be jiresumed that hoary locks or the bakl head is 
always the index and token of wisdom or virtue. 

With the writer, the weary wheels of life are now rutining 
their septuagenarian rounds. In his experience as a local 
j^eacher for forty years or more, with a nature as sensiti\ e 
to slight or wrong as the aspen leaf to the zephyr's breath, 
yet he has no complaints to make as having met with discrim- 
ination on account of age from the officials of the Church, 
lie did not experience it in Georgia, nor has he in Texas, his 
adopted State. Whatever he may have suffered in his per- 
sonal dignity from real or fancied slight or wrong from some, 
vet it has l)een more than counterbalanced by the honor and' 
respect paid him by others of his itinerant brethren. 

He has in pleasing reminiscence the kind treatment he 
received from S. J. Hawkins (of revered memory), both 



Young Mkn vn. Oud Mkn, 243 

as pastor and ]:)rcsi(HnjTf elder; llu' lri1)ulcs of culoj^i'y before 
the people ])aid him by Rev. I ). I'". h'liUer, then oi the IL'ist 
Texas Conferenee, and the hij^h appreeiation of his minis- 
terial help shown him by Rev. Stuart Nelson of the Gilmer 
Circuit. lie recalls as a cherished incident the gracious 
faA^or put upon him by Bishop George F. Pierce, in the 
preachers' tent at the Rock S])rings camp-niceting, near Den- 
ton, Texas, on Sabbath afternoon, July — , 1875. Rising up 
before the l)ody of ])reachers present, and frankly placing his 
arm upon the shoulder of the writer, this eminent minister 
of Christ and crowned monarch in the realm of oratory, said 
to Rev. M. II. Xeely, the pastor of the Church at Dallas: 
" Neely, this is t)ne of our boys (graduate of F.mory), and 
if you need a teacher at Dallas. I can recommend him." No 
higher honor than this, though bestowed by the ])roudest 
potentate of Europe, could have been conferred upon the 
writer of this article. 

With him the sun is rapidly di])ping to the west. In his 
cosy home at Linden, as the days glide by, he is watching, 
praying and working. He occupies the pulpit of his Church 
once a month, teaches the senior Bible class of the Sabbath- 
school, and, with the assistance of a few brethren and the 
invariable help of devout sisters, he keeps up the prayer- 
meeting for each Wednesday m'ght. It is a treadmill path, 
but it is one of duty and fragrant are its footings. As deeply 
enamored of the classics as when he first drank of their 
Pierian stream, he finds beauty and delight in the sweet lyrics 
of Horace, the stately epic of Virgil, the brilliant wonders 
of Homer and the burning invective of Juvenal. Nor less of 
favor does Shakespeare or Milton receive. 

Now, in the decline of life, when the period of active use- 
fulness is past, he realizes that the old men of the ministry 
may have the esteem and confidence of the Church, and live 
in such harmony and love as always to secure their sym])atiiy 
and aid. 



244 Essays and Addresses. 



rULriT ORATORY —No. i. 

Oratory, in its perfection, is the his^hest form and expres- 
sion of human culture. It is the consummate flower of the 
grace, heauty and jwwer of thouglit, speecli and of the action 
of the body in harmonious combination, as exhibited in pubUc 
discourse. In a technical sense, it is the living embodiment 
resulting from the principles of eloquence and elocution in 
harmony and combination. Some may display the skill and 
])athos of the orator from native powers of genius and the 
inspiration of the crisis and the hour, and speak eloquently, 
yet distinguished speakers, though they may not have been 
trained, will instinctively conform to the rules that guide in 
the art of elocution. Iknieticial, as well as sublime, and the 
source of enrapturing delight to the mind, are the uses of 
oratory. Grand ancl glorious have been its achievements 
upon the world's stage of action. " Oratory," said Pericles, 
the renowned Athenian statesman, " is the art of ruling the 
minds of men." In his own case, it enabled him to rule the 
little republic of ancient Attica, at the height of its glory and 
supremacy, for forty \'ears, and to enchant the hckle populace 
whilst he governed them. 

Subtle and imdetinable is the power of oratory. It may be 
in the movemeni ot' the linger, in the pose of the body, in the 
glance of the eye, in the expression of the countenance, in the 
grace and beauty of person ; but these are only incidental to 
tile ]-)Ower and art of the orator. In the Greek, man is not 
only called o anthrol>os, but is designated plios, from pliao, 
or plio, to cry, thus signifying that he is an articulate- 
sjieaking being, and the charm of voice is his distinctive attri- 
Inite. 'liie human voice is the most perfect of all instruments. 
In its wonderful cai>acity when trained, it alone can reveal 
and portrav, in vivid power and intensity of expression, the 
depths of thought and the inward jiassions of the soul. 
" Hence," savs one, " the ordained efficiency of preaching; 
hence the trembling of Felix, as the great Apostle reasoned 
'of righteousness, temperance and judgment to come.'" 

Homer, in the Iliad, tells of Nestor, tlie clear-toned speaker 
of the Pvlians, from whose tongue flowed speech sweeter 



Pulpit Oratory. 245 

than honey. Not only did the words of his lips delii;ht, but 
from the modulations of his voice, they fell in enrapturing 
sweetness of soiuid upon the ear. The old Greek bard like- 
wise gives a picture and description of Menelaus and Ulysses 
and their style of oratory when they appeared as aml)assadors 
before I'ria'm and the Trojan Council seeking for the restora- 
tion of Helen. Menelaus spoke with rapid conciseness, in 
clear and musical tones, since not being of many words, nor 
one who missed the point. When the sagacious Ulysses arose, 
he stood, having his eyes fixed ui)on the ground, holding his 
scepter unmoved, like to one unskilled in art ; you would have 
said that he was some one exceedingly angry and devoid of 
reason, acting as he did. Rut when, now, then, he sent forth 
a voice from his strong breast, the words fell like wintry 
flakes of snow. " Not then with Ulysses," said Trojan 
Antenor as narrator, " certainly, could any other mortal have 
vied ; not then, did we wonder so nnudi at his countenance, as 
now at his eloquence." The two styles of oratory presented 
in contrast are well worthy of the study of public speaker.s. 

But few have attained the high and splendid accomplish- 
ments of oratory, even in the most favored ages of the 
world's history and in the most enlightened countries. Gener- 
ation after generation has followed, and century after century 
has passed, with only solitary instances of the growth and 
development of stately and full cultured oratorical genius. To 
grasp the palm of oratorical perfection recpiires such intrepid- 
it>' of character such indomitable aml)ition and assiduous toil, 
that few have attempted it. Classic Greece presents an illus- 
trious example in Demosthenes. The history of his toils and 
training in the art and of the power of his vehement elo- 
quence that fulmined over Greece and shook the throne of 
Macedon are well known to the world. Also, ancient Rome 
could boast of Cicero, whose oratory saved the cajjital and 
the republic and banished Catiline. To the acquirement of 
the art he devoted years of toil and daily training. Such were 
his wide, varied and delicate attainments in rhetoric and the 
training of his voice, " he was the very mocking-bird of elo- 
quence, which is his greatest distinction and glory ; for who' 
so various as he ; who so sweet, so powerful, so simply elo- 



2iC-) 



IVSSANS ANli AnHKI'.SSlv.S. 



(|iiciil, or s(i m.-iiMiiluciil 1\ llMwim-, .iiid cicli ;inil ;ill hy 
lunis?" 'In cli.iii.L'.c llir riLMiii'. il iiii.L;lil l>f ^;li'l "I' liiui, as Ik- 
<li(l of Arisldllc, " Thai lie was a rivci ol IImuiii'.; .i^old." In 
s|Kakiiii; ol' liiiii, r.i iiliis, (lid Kmiic's I'aiurd pal i ii il , diclarrd 
If.' w'liiild prclcr llic liMiior id' luiii'; cslcciiicd llic inaslcr (d 
.Koiiiau id(»(|tu'iui' It) llir ,i;l<ir\ id' many Irinniplis. 



rin.i'rr ( )UA k )\<\ No. 2. 



d'lic oi aloi \' (d' llic pnlpil or of ( dnisi ianil \, as well as liial 
(i| llic licMia id' ancicnl Alliens and llic loiniii o| K'oinc, 
presents an inlcicsl iiiv, licld id' ini|nii\. In llic pn-acliin«4 ol 
llu' gospel, in addilioii |o nalinal endow mcnl s id mind and 
jicrson, llicrc I'onics in a new, \ilal and di\inc a!.',cnc\ lo 
LMiidc, inspiic and assist willi miracnloii'- powii in the work, 
d lie old <.!eek ni\lli llial a special ili\iiiil\ oi di\ inities. a.> 
Apollo and tlic Muses, presiiK'd o\( r llic icalm ol oratory to 
lii»'allic upon llu' \'ol;iiics of clo(|iiciicc llic divine ;illlal ns, is 
realized, ,S;iid |!ie li'-cii (lilisl lo liis disciples ludore Ilis 
a^.cension, lli.il llic\ should lati\ at |crnsalem iinlil llie\ were 
(•ndiicd willi powc! from on liijdi, ddie eiidncmciil c.ini" 
npon llic ila\ of rcnlecosl. The disciples wiTc liapli/cd 
willi ihe llol\ (ihost, ;inil " hc^an lo speak willi oIIkt 
loiijMics, ;is llic .spirit ,!L;a\e llieiii 111 ter.iiicc." I'dcr stood np 
and prcaclicd lliiist as a risen and ex.dted Saviom-. ddiey 
that idadU rcceivi'd his word wcic hapti/cd ; and three thou- 
sand well' coin CI led I he s:iiiie da\ . The apostU'S, sa\ s rctiT, 
pleached lhe,L;ospel "willi the llol\ ( iliosi si'iil down fioin 
lu';i\cii." Idle same dixinc nnclion is \'oiichsalcd to ihcir 
sneeessors in the iiiinislr\ of the \\ Onl tlnonidionl all i;en- 
etalions. 

In the c,irl\' stat'cs of ( 'hristiaiiih the ( diiiii h fnl!\ .ippre- 
ei;ilcd the cnllnrc of oraloi \ . as I'leaih evinced in sciiptmal 
recoi d and C( (IcsiasI icd histoiN . Il li;id its I ';inl, its ( cplias, 
its Apollos, ils Stephen, I'.ulianl with the liidit of lii;.di coin- 
ninnioii .md of idorics inncilcd and spiritual, to prockiim tho 
f',ospol as K-arned ^A (hrisl and " in words which the llolv 
(lliost teaidieth." with whose theme suhliine and truths of 



I'Ul.l'ri' ( )KA'I'()RV 



247 



s;'lv.'iti()ii, and heavenly rlieli )iic, nm |';i!.';;in pliilDsopIu', nor 
' •l-eelc iKir Koiuan el()(|nencc CMiild vie. Mnskilleil in the 
irlluic and depllis of learning wi-ic iii;in\' of tlmse wlm 
|irea<'lied llie t;i)S|iel, \<'l llie\' cdulil llie re;ts(in swaw the 
jtidj.;nienl convince, ihe hoMim wilh lM\'e's raplnic ihrill, as 
ihouj^h Ihey ha<l drnnk ol old K'oine's (dassic liU oi' Ihe 
sweets of Greece's llymellian hecs of sonj^ |ioined in l.ni 
.miajjfe ])ersuasive fiom ilieir loni-jie. Mow j^rand and 
I)ene(k"enl were the achie\cinenls ol' iheir oralofy ! Ihe 
jMSpel prt'acdied, as al (he touch (d a niasdc wand, (|niel.eiied 
Ihe soids (;f men dead in lresp;isses and sins, " renewed iheni 
after Ihe ini;i.i',e of ( iod in ri;dil<-onsness and line holiness," 
and inadialed lile wilh llie re\'ealcd hope of iinnioil;dii \'. 

Anion;; llie iiisl;inees oi iio|;ihlc oi;iloi\ ;illei ihe aposlolie 
a^';e, which Ihe ( Inn'cdi presenls in llie proj^ri'ss of llu- ^'ospel, 
may he menlioned thai of Si. |olin, Ihe mosi elo(|iieiit of the 
fathers of Ihe (ireek ( 'Imri-ii, hoin al Aiiliocdi 3,17 A. I ). Me 
was called ( -hrvsoslomos f^Dldeii nionllie(l) on ;iceoiiiil of 
hi' unrivaled eloipieiice. In llic liflli eenlni\' Ihe ( 'lini( h 
Ik i-an lo wane in pmily and spiriln;il jiower. Amhilion for 
weall h ;ind supremacy J)re vailed in il s episeop;il ranks. As the 
sail of the earth, il losi its coiiserval i\'e power. As the li^^ht 
()( the woild, it failed lo illnniine. That epoch in llic world's 
history called the " I )ark Aj^cs " supervened, lor live ceii 
Inn'es it |)roduced hnl few names of eminence in leai nin;; ;ind 
talenl. The ("hnrcli in its cloislereil ret icil s ;ind Ihioiijdi ils 
cler;^\' jtreserved the i-emains id aiicieiil le.-irnii;!.; to the world, 
and conferred on after a^es a piiicless hooii. 

In the restoration of the woi Id liom this lou^ ni}.^Iil of 
i.iMiorance and dej^cneracy, and in the d.iwninj^' of the era of 
spirilnal life and lij.;ht tli;il followed in the twelfth cenlnry, 
the ("hnndi, in the heneliciiKc of its i;real Anihor, was made 
the soni'ce of hlessiii^'', aii<l the or.itoi \ ol ;i!i ohsciiic monk, 
in the person of I'eler the I liTinil, w;i-. the ( ;iii'.c .-uid cfTecl 
ive inst rnmeiil. 1 le had not the loft \ ;ill 1 ihnlc, ;ni(l the jMand 
j)tTsnasive powers of j^ifled orators, hnl ni< re Ihiencv of 
speech and hman'nj^ ardor of sold ; yet his sinijjle elocpience 
was attended hy direct and rellex results hroader and d<-eper 
than ever was accfimplished li\ I hat of anv other man, as 
jceorded on historic p.ic'f. Me ,-iroiisef| the eiillinsi;ism oi 



248 Essays and Addrksses. 

Christendom and projected the Crusades for the recovery of 
the Holy Sepulchre. These in their effects changed the civil- 
ization of Europe. 

In the onward progress of Christianity, in the fifteenth 
century there appear, consecutively, Martin Luther, the 
Protestant reformer, and John Calvin, the great Geneva 
preacher. These were mighty in the Scriptures, but as orators- 
with distinguished ability they occupied the field of theolog- 
ical controversy. 

The pulpit oratory of Pascal, Bossuet and Bourdaloue, in 
the sixteenth century, crowned with honor and luster the 
ecclesiastical annals of France and the epoch of the Revival 
of Learning. The first was unsurpassed in his power of pro- 
found and condensed thought and style of rhetoric, and in- 
the field of theology the potency of his pen is said "to have 
done more to ruin the name of Jesuit than all the contro- 
versies of Protestantism, or all the fulminations of the 
Parliament of Paris." The second, as an orator, wa& 
renowned for his lofty thoughts, fervid diction and melody of 
voice. The third, for thought, learning and logical rea- 
soning. The works of these three great French preachers 
are reservoirs of thought, reasoning and eloquence from 
which modern divines mav draw to fertilize their own minds- 



PULPIT ORATORY —No. 3. 

At the same era the pulpit of Protestant England, or of 
the Anglican Church, produced illustrious examples of theo- 
logic eloquence, rather than of oratory proper, in the persons 
of Richard Hooker, Jeremy Taylor and Isaac Barrow. 
Hooker, the first of these great divines, was distinguished 
for his vast erudition, his stately and classical style, his earn- 
est eloquence, enlivened by a natural humor lovely in its fresh 
simplicity. Jeremy Taylor was the poetic preacher whose 
genius led him to cull the flowers of thought from the fields 
of classic antiquity, and which blended in fragrance and 
beauty with those of his own imagination and fancy, an;! 
inwoven in his sermons in rich profusion, made the: i gar- 



Pulpit Oratory. 249 

I.'ukIs fit to be laid in tril)iitc of service on the altar of God, 
and beautifully emblematic of the grace and sweetness of the 
religion of Him who in the scriptural metaphor is called the 
Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. The eloquence 
o: Barrow, the third of this illustrious triad, with his mind 
trained in the field of abstract study and natural science, was 
" severe and majestic, the handmaid of the strictest aufl most 
ccmprchensive logic." Those who desire richness, fullness 
and universality of style and thought will derive l)cnefit from 
the diligent perusal of the writings of these three divines, as- 
models in sacred literature. 

In the eighteenth century pu]])il oratory in Itngland, as 
the fixed and favored abode of I'rotestant Christianity, had 
declined from its early models and had become degenerate. 
During the progress of that era it assumed a new style and 
phase, as exhibited in the examples of John Wesley, George 
Whitefield and Robert Hall, taken at different periods. Wes- 
ley the first one of these three eminent preachers, was the 
great expositor of the Scriptures and spiritual reformer of 
the Church. It may be said that his preaching was a living 
embodiment of the grace and power of sanctified learning 
and the work of the Ib^ly Ghost, exciting and winning the 
thoughtful considerations of men rather than their pane- 
gyrics, as attested in the statement and the fact that one hun- 
dred thousand persons were made converts to Christianity 
under his preaching during the sixty years of his mmistrv. 
Ihe Methodist denomination in all its branches, that now 
counts its members by the millions, stands as a living 
evidence and monument of the efficiency and fruits of hi.s 
labor and that of his coworkers in the gos])c]at that day. 
George Whitefield stands crowned by the consentaneous 
voice of time as the eloquent pulpit orator. His gifts were 
in a large measure the spontaneous grant of nature, or rnther 
of divine beneficence. It is said that such was the thrilling 
])athos of his voice that he could make a congregation wcej) 
under his pronunciation of the word Mesopotamia three 
times. Robert 1 lall, the third one of the immortal three, was 
an elder of llic Uaptist Church. Horn in 1764. A. ])., and 
dying in 1S31, his ministry began in the eighteenth century 
and extended int(j the nineteenth. As a pu]i)it orator his. 



250 Essays and Addresses. 

discourses were characterized l)y broad, profound and com- 
prehensive range of thought, long, winding periods, with 
grace of rhythm and (hction exhibiting the full scope and 
wealth of the English language in its composite chai acter, 
with a strong strain of Anglo-Saxon. These were delivered 
with such rapidity of utterance, fervor and exaltation of soul 
and melody of voice that at times, with magnetic power, Ik 
drew his auditors to their feet. Fervent in his piety, liberal 
in his doctrines, profound in his theology, elociuent in his 
oratory, his fame and usefulness have not been hemmed in l^y 
sectarian lines. His published sermons have been received 
as standards of sacred elociuence by the evangelical world, 
and read with delight. 

During the present century, which is now closing its last 
round, such has been the increase of population, the general 
diffusion of knowledge, the advancement of art and science, 
the progress of the gospel and the extension of the borders 
of Christianit}'. that there has been a large accession to the 
number of pulpit orators in the dee])ening ranks of the min- 
ii'try. From the long list of illustrious ones througJiout 
Christendom, we select for notice and comment, as to styles 
of oratory and representatives of the age, William Capers, 
H. B. Bascom and George F. Pierce. These three ministers 
of the gospel were of the M. E. Church, South, and well 
known in tlie annals of Methodism. Each one bore tlie palm 
of the orator, and has a revered and precious memory in the 
Church. Each one, as anointed of the Holy Ghost and in his 
gifts and graces of speech, won many souls to Christ. Each 
one has a grand record of earthly fame. 

The first in order of the three, William Ca])ers (Bishop in 
the M. E. Church, South), had the natural endowments of 
body and mind that make the orator: being tall and gracefid 
in form, courtly in manner, classic and handsome in counte- 
nance, eyes radiant with the light of genius, and voice as 
musical as Apollo's lute. There was also to him the mind 
glowing with thouglit and rich in culture, and the seraphic 
fire that fills the soul from knowledge and love of Christ and 
the grace of the Holy Spirit. In memorial sermon of him 
preached before the conference. Bishop Pierce said of him : 
"Oh, he was a charming preacher. At times he was trans- 



Pulpit Oratory. 



251 



'figured, his very form dilated, his eye heamed with celestial 
h^'iuty, soft with light of love, yet radiant with the joy of 
his rapt and ravished spirit, and his voice, mellowed by emo- 
tion, spell-bound while it inspired the hearing multitude." 

The second of these eloquent sons of the Church. H. B. 
Bascom, likewise of the Episcopal College, was cast in a 
magnificent mold, both as an orator and as a man. He was 
tall and massive in frame, regal in intellect and impressive in 
the majesty of his bearing. His sermons w^ere broad and 
<?omprehensive in their scope, presenting the truths and prin- 
:iples of Christianity in an elaborate manner, and as adorned 
\vith tropes, metaphors and similitudes poured forth in rich 
exuberance by his imagination from the chambers of its 
imagery, they are rich mosaics and specimens of pulpit elo- 
quence, unique, grand, novel and dazzling. His eloctition 
was in harmony and adaptation to the magnificence and 
stately structure of his discourses, and placed him among the 
Titans of oratory. 

The third one of this list of eloquent divines. Bishop 
George F. Pierce, possessed in rare excellence from nature 
the elements of the orator. There was to him grace and 
symmetry of form and person that gave to every pose of his 
body in the pulpit the eloquence of preaching ; the forehead 
ideal, serene and expressive of intellectual power ; the eye 
A'ivid, and in its fine setting giving dreamy brilliancy and 
fascination to his countenance ; the exquisite contour of 
mouth and chin and lips, expressing majesty, beauty and 
grace; the deep-toned voice, that in all its modulations, from 
the lowest note to the highest pitch, possessed magnetic 
power. His imagination was bold and fervid, scaling the 
highest heaven of invention, and the thoughts of his mind 
in his " poet's tropic heart '' blossomed into beauty and fra- 
grance and richness of language. It may be said of " his 
flowers they were not artificial ; they all had roots, and they 
were redolent of the morning dew, fresh and fragrant as a 
vernal garden in the early day." He was a matchless orator. 
Jv. natural endowments, theme and divine afi^atus, he was 
greater than Demosthenes, greater than Cicero, and Xvore the 
purple robe and the imperial crown in the w^orld's wide li.sts 
'Of oratory. 



252 Essays and Addresses. 



PULPIT ORATORY— No. 4. 

No field of art or letters can rival the pulpit, or the preach- 
ing of the gospel, in its conditions, features, topics, incentives- 
and purposes, for the culture and attainment of a high stand- 
ard of oratory. An analysis and a review of the elements 
and principles of the art and the training required for its 
developmenl will clearly demonstrate the statement. In 
addition to the natural endowments of mind and person, and 
the literary facilities they may possess, there is vouchsafed to- 
those who preach the gospel special preparation and assist- 
ance for the work from a divine source. This unique fact in 
pulpit oratory would seemingly obviate the expediency, as 
well as the necessity, on their part, to devote special care and 
attention to the art of delivery. The old time-honored maxim 
of Cicero that " an orator is made such " may apply in secu- 
lar, but becomes expletive in sacred oratory. The persuasion 
prevails in some minds (if not many) that with the call to the 
ministry the enduement of the Spirit, as an unction and 
spiritual qualification bestowed to give power and efficacy to 
the preaching of the Word, dispenses with all human art or 
culture to that efifect. 

In furtherance of this opinion many quotations from the 
Scriptures are cited in evidence : Thus, Peter exhorts : " If 
any man minister, let him do it as of the ability God giveth."" 
Then, Paul, "who profited in the learning of the Jews 
above his equals," writes to the Corinthian Church, that, when 
he came among them, he preached not " with excellency of 
speech " or " enticing words of man's wisdom," l)ut " in 
words the Holv Ghost teacheth." that their faith might 
" stand not in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God." 

On the other hand, Paul, in writing to Timothy, his son in 
the gospel exhorts him "not to neglect the gift that is in 
him by prophecv, with the laving on of the hands of the 
presbytery." Also that he should study to show himself 
" approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be 
ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." These teach- 
ings of the Scriptures do not conflict with each other, but 



Pulpit Oratory. 253 

constitute one of those scriptural paradoxes which, when 
pioperly studied and construed, fit in with each other witli 
divine harmony and beauty. Along their line of conjunction 
(iiicdiain aurcani), the golden mean of Horace, lies as usual 
the truth. They exhibit the great theological principles of 
the agency of man and sovereignty of God conjointly in- 
volved in the ministry of the gospel, as well as in the work of 
human salvation. Where each begins and each ends no 
boundary line may be drawn ; but they are beautifully exem- 
plified in the declaration of St. Paul, when, in speaking of his 
work in the gospel, he says : " I labored more than them 
all ; yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me." 

The construction of the Scriptures that would maintain 
that there is no personal training, efifort and zealous coopera- 
tion with the grace of God required of those who preach the 
■gospel is the delusive dream of a Sybarite — of " him that is 
at ease in Zion." It is the song of the Syren, deceitful and 
destructive, that would lure to the doom of the unfaithful 
servant in the Parable of the Talents. The doctrine of the 
personal and direct agency and influence of the Holy Ghost, 
the Third Person in the Divine Trinity, in enduing those 
called to minister in the gospel with grace and power to 
preach, is grand, glorious and inspiring. Nothing less could 
vivify their dead moral and intellectual sensibilities, illumine 
their understandings and enable them, with invincible energy, 
to " wrestle with principalities, the power of darkness and 
spiritual wickedness in high places." It should not be so 
construed and perverted as to lead those who preach the 
gospel to dispense with the culture of the graces and gifts of 
speech and person that will give them favor with men and 
■aid them in winning souls to Christ. 

Do not the bees (says Quintilian) extract honey from verv 
different flowers and juices? Is it any wonder that eloquence, 
^'hich is one of the greatest gifts heaven has given to man, 
requires many arts to perfect it ? Though they do not appear 
in an oration nor seem to be of any use, they nevertheless are 
silently felt in the mind and afford an inward supplv of 
strength. This elegant simile of the old Roman rhetorician 
•conveys a just representation of the character and principles 
■of oratory, as it incorporates in living and harmonious com- 



2 54 Essays and Addresses. 

bination the channs and excellencies of poetry, music and 
SLatuai"}-, and extends over a Ijroad range of culture. That it 
can be acquired from the reading of books of rhetoric and 
eloquent extracts, reciting choice pieces of poetry and elo- 
quence, is a delusion and a fantasy of modern elocution. The 
work of the elocutionist is but mere effervescence — the words 
of the lips ; the empty flagon without the wine of the soul — 
the palace of fairy frost-work, without substance and sup- 
port, as compared with the temple of Parian marble, with its 
solid foundation and symmetrical columns. 

He who would, in the language of Juvenal {nectcrct 
quicunquc canoris cloqiiiiiin z'ocale modis), weave lofty 
tlioughts in melodious sentences, must study the philosophy 
oh oratory as it lies innate in its principles in the d'^'pths of 
the human mind, and f\\Q practice of unadulterated goodness 
and truth. Says one : " None but a good man can be a 
perfect orator ; uncorrupted and incorruptible integrity is 
one of the most powerful engines of persuasion." Ihis 
should be the character of every minister of the gospel, and 
the ability which God giveth in the regenerating grace of the 
Holy Spirit. 



PULPIT ORATORY— No. 5. 

No automatons or intellectual imbeciles are desired or 
needed to preach the gospel. To perform adequately this high 
and holy duty requires all the gifts and graces of m'nd an-d 
heart that nature grants and art and grace can bestow. The 
religion of Christ is not a mere round of ceremonial duties 
and observances ; nor is it a mere rhapsody of feeling or 
spiritual exultation. As, says the apostle, "great is the mys- 
tery of godliness," " spiritual things are spiritually 
discerned." Yet, the great truths and facts of divine reve- 
lation address themselves to the reason. They may be above 
human reason, but not contrary to it. The highest culture of 
mind and body are requisite for the preaching of the gospel 
in its full force and power. 

To this task and duty should every one devote himself 



Pulpit Oratory. 255 

who engages to preach the g-ospel aiul is (Hvinely called, as 
was Aaron. The divine record shows that it was the wise- 
hearted and those who had skill that God chose to minis ■er 
hefore him or to execute his purposes and commands. I^ is 
to be presumed that those who preach the salvation of the 
gospel to men should have intellectual endowments, and 
should bestow upon them diligent culture. It is requisite to 
have the intellectual vision opened as well as the spiritual. 
That they may appreciate the beauty of the divine scheme of 
redemption, they should cultivate the intellect or the under- 
standing in all its functions and powers. The torch of mind 
is the flame of glory in man, and assimilates him to Deity. 
1 hough it may not comprehend the plans of Infinite Wisdom 
in the economy of gospel in all their length and breadth, yet 
in its culture it may reach that degree of assurance and 
knowledge of the Scriptures that fills the soul with an in- 
crease of praise, wonder and delight. The apostle in his epis- 
tle to the Ephesians prays God "may give unto them the 
spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him, the 
eyes of their understanding being enlightened " — that they 
may attain to a more ])erfcct knowledge of his religion. " The 
eyes of the understanding " in the original and in its Hebraic 
character denotes the seat not only of the will and afifections, 
but also of the understanding. 

Then comes the will to be trained and disciplined. " On 
reason build resolve, that column of majesty in man," says 
the poet. The will is the one faculty or function of the mind, 
or the divine nature of man. that assimilates him to his 
Creator more than any other. In the exercise of it, or the act 
o! volition, he is morally supreme. Its training or culture 
is to choose the right, and the right pursue ; to be devoutly 
submissive to the will of God ; to be firm in the discharge of 
duty and invincible to the persuasions of appetite or passion. 
It conformed to that decision of character which prompt'.'d 
Luther to declare " that he would attend the Diet at Wonr.s. 
though there were as many devils there as there were tiles 
on the houses." It was exhibited in John Knox in his fearles>< 
and inflexible opposition to the dominion of popery in Scot- 
land. " O God, give me Scotland or I die," was his prayer. 

It is likewise appropriate and exalting to cultivate the 



256 Essays and Addrksses. 

imagination, tlie imperial faculty of the mind. It is of excel- 
lent use, and puts a wand of magic power in the hand of the 
•orator. It enables him to body forth the forms of things and 
give to airy nothings a local habitation and a name. It filled 
the lips of Plato with ravishing discourse of the lost Atlantis, 
the island beyond the Hesperian wave, where the soul would 
repose after death " in fields immortal and groves divine." 
The charming myth pleased his disciples as they listened, and 
moved them to tears. Why may not the preachers of the 
gospel, in whom the Spirit of Divine Revelation has opened 
^'faith's interior eye" and revealed the fair fields of Eden, 
the Christian's home in glory, as seen by St. John in apoc- 
alyptic vision, choose those words and thoughts that will 
portray it in the living beauty of heaven's eternal spring? 
Nor is this all the culture that is essential to form the 
pulpit orator. lie should assiduously cultivate his pathematic 
sensibilities, that open up in the soul the fountain of feeling. 
" Deep, intense feeling lies at the root of eloquence," says 
one. Joy and grief, hope and despair, have their place in the 
heart and life of every one, and should have utterance in tlio 
words of those who minister to the souls of men. " Emotion 
is the soul of oratory : one flash of passion on the cheek, one 
l)cam of feeling from the eye, one thrilling note from the 
tongue, one stroke of hearty emphasis from the arm, have 
infinitely more value than all the rhetorical rules and flour- 
ishes of ancient or modern times. The great rule is — Be in 
■earnest. This is what Demosthenes more than intimated 
when thrice declaring that the most important thing in elo- 
quence was action. There will be no execution without fire." 



PULPIT ORATORY —No. 6. 

The principles of oratory lie in the depths of man's corpo- 
rate nature and in his powers as a sentient being. The 
science of it in the culture and development of these by the 
study of geometry, language, physics, theology and " the 
human mind profound." This lays the foundation broad and 
deep, for that system of reasoning, those graces of speech. 



Pulpit Orv^toky. 257 

.-s]:.eoulali()ns of tliouj^ht, ransj;-es of philosophy, sources of 
knowlcdi^o and cnil)cnishnicnls of fancy, which sway the 
ilicarls and minds of men and lead them captive at the orator's 
will. This calls for the high education of those who labor in 
the gospel. In view of this fact, the raising of the Twentieth 
■Century Fund renders it an enterprise worthy of grand effort 
■on the part of the Church and the world. It means a vast 
increase of strength and power to the operative agencies of 
the gospel and the evangelization of the world. Whilst the 
.sufficiency of the Church and the ministry must ever be of 
God, yet this sufficiency may be made more available by the 
■efficiency of the instrumentalities employed. 

In the work of oratory, not only the intellect, the will and 
"the sensibilities are to be cultivated and developed, but also 
every sense and function of the body. Says one : " Man is 
radiant with expressions. Every feature, limb, muscle and 
vein may tell of the energy within. The l)ody in its connec- 
tion with the mind speaks many languages." What a nol)le 
tribute does the poet pay to the excellence of man, as " being 
in form and moving, express and admirable ; and in action, 
like an angel." It is of first importance to the orator that ne 
•can understand and skilfully employ the language of the 
body in its silent symbolism and expression of the emotions 
and thoughts of the mind, that he may impart living force 
and beauty to his spoken words. Says the venerable Cud- 
worth in a sermon, "There is a soul and spirit of divin^truth 
which can not express itself sufficiently in words and sounds ; 
but will declare and speak itself in actions, as the old maimer 
among the I^gyptians was not by words but things." What 
heights and depths of language may declare the glory of 
Christ in his mediatorship, in view of which the apostle calls 
liim the unspeakable gift of God? The sacred poet in the 
rapture of his devotion exclaims, "Let earth with her ten 
thousand tongues the Saviour's praises speak. 

As the tribune was said to be the pedestal of beauty to the 
great French orator Vergniaud, so should the pulpit be to 
the preacher of the gospel. His exalted office and solemn 
responsibility as the divinely-appointed herald to declare the 
glad tidings of the gospel, and as heaven's plenipotentiary to 

17 si 



258 Essays and Addresses. 

offer pardon, peace and salvation to men, should impart to- 
him majesty and gracious bearing of person and manner. 
The pulpit as the visible Holy of Holies, where the Infinitrv 
God graciously deigns to speak to the congregation through 
his Word, with him as hierophant, should inspire the 
preacher with holy awe. As he arises in the pulpit at the 
hour of public worship, with forehead serene and thoughtful, 
countenance beaming with spiritual joy and gladness, and 
soul glowing with a message fresh from the throne, he should' 
greet and survey his congregation with soul steeped in his- 
sermon, and with voice and features and gestures in sweet 
harmony with his theme and thoughts and truths, as drawn- 
from his treasures new and old, as needs be ; with the tongue 
of the learned, he should be able to speak words of comfori: 
to the weary ; or with flaming bolt of divine wrath as de- 
nounced, smite the conscience of the hardened sinner as rhe- 
lightning " the unwedgeable oak" ; or with the dalliance of 
the breeze of summer as it plays around the myrtle, woo the 
tender and contrite spirit to Christ.- 

The Bible, as the text-book of the preacher of the gospel, 
in view of its character, its literary excellence, its topics and 
teachings, is a grand instrumentality in the culture of pulpit 
oratory. It is called The Book, the Book of Books, the 
Word of God, the Scriptures, the Gospel, to indicate its 
origin and supreme eminence. In its uses it is termed the 
Llw of God, the Word of Salvation, and unfolds the great 
mysteries of sin, death, immortality, the resurrection of the 
body, and eternal life through faith in Christ as the world's 
Redeemer. In its literary features it stands unrivaled by 
eiiher Greek or Roman literature for lofty truths, sublime 
imagery and models of eloquent oratory. The truths of the 
gospel which the pulpit orator is called to proclaim involve, 
not so much the passing pageant of man's earthly life as the 
immortal destiny of the race, and this fact invests them with 
an interest paramount to that of all others. 

The exercise of oratory is the sum and substance of the' 
vocation of preaching the gospel. This happy polity prevails 
in the features and conditions of the itinerancy of the M. E. 
Church, South (or North). To secure their undivided ser- 
vice to the work of the ministry the Church makes provision) 



Pulpit Oratory. 259 

and pledges itself to support its ministers. This arrangement 
enables those who are engaged in the regular work to devote 
their time exclusively to preaching, and also to have leisure 
and opportunity for intellectual improvement and the devel- 
opment of oratory. The itinerant system opens a sphere in 
iti features and conditions unsurpassed for the culture of the 
rhetorical art. It keeps it before the mind and in constant 
practice as a daily pursuit. The knowledge which the itiner- 
ant as a student may acquire to-day may be used in discourse 
to-morrow. The sermon outlined may be developed and 
expanded at each successive appointment around the circuit, 
become indelibly fixed in mind, and with the inspiration of 
the occasion be always ready for future use. 

In the economy of divine grace an experimental knowledge 
of Christianity in its great facts and truths forms the foun- 
dation and the capstone of true evangehcal oratory. Without 
it all the graces of speech, eloquence of thought and art of 
delivery as to saving power and salutary effects, will be as 
"the baseless fabric of a vision." There must be the experi- 
ence of repentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus 
Christ as the two fundamental conditions of salvation ; also, 
the work of the Holy Spirit in regenerating power ; the love 
of God shed abroad in the heart, and the peace of God that 
passeth all understanding, in order to a true and effective 
ministry of the Word. In this spiritual and experimental 
knowledge of its saving grace and power, the special call and 
the • induement of the Spirit consists " the ability 
v/hich God givetli" to preach the gospel. As the 
gospel is the savor of life unto life or of death unto death in 
those that hear, it becomes the solemn dutv, and should be 
the holy aspiration of all who minister in the Word to seek 
and cultivate such attainments of oratory as shall render 
their preaching persuasive and lead to Christ. It should be 
said of them, as it was of Lord Chatham as an orator, that 
" his whole delivery was such as to make the orator a part 
of his own eloquence ; his mind was viewed in his counte- 
nance, and so embodied was it in every look and gesture that 
his words were rather felt than followed ; they invested his 
hearers ; the weapons of his opponents fell from their hands ; 



26o Essays and Addresses. 

he spoke with the air and vehemence of inspiration, and the 
very atmosphere flamed around him." 

The task to preach the gospel is mighty and the labor great 
when duly performed ; yet how triumphant the close of life 
to those who have consecrated heart and hand and life to the 
service of the Master. In the midst of pain and sufferuig, 
and with the light of eternity shining upon their death-couch, 
they may, with Moody, tlie great evangelist, exclaim : 

" Ear til is receding; 
Heaven is opening." 

This is mv coronation dav ! — it is glorious ! 



LITERARY CRITICISM FROM PERSIUS 
FLACCUS— SATIRE 1. 

PARAniRASE AND COMMENT. 

In the prologue to his satires this Latin poet, who lived 
'during the reign of Nero, the Roman Emperor, says of him- 
self : "I have not moistenetl my lips at the fountain of Hip- 
pocrene ; nor do I rememlier to have dreamed upon double- 
peaked Parnassus. I remit the muses and pale Pirene to those 
■whose images the ivy entwines with its encircling chaplets. 
i myself, a half rustic, bring {iiostnini) our song to the 
temple of the poets." 

" What," says he, " taught the parrot his ' xaire' (saluta- 
tion) and the magpies to imitate human voices? As the 
teacher of art and dispenser of genius, a hungry stomach was 
the artist that promjited them to pursue after voices denied 
to them by nature. But if the hope of seductive money shall 
have enticed, you may suppose that {corz'as poefas) wretched 
poets and {poctrias picas) boasting rhymers to sing sublime 
and poetic strains." At the very threshold of his task some 
one who could deter the poet from the writing of satires 
exclaims: "O, the cares of men! O, how great vanity in 
things ! Who will read these?" " Did you say that to me?" 
asks the poet. " No one will read them." "No one?" ejacu- 
lates the poet. "Y^ry few ; it is a shameful and lamentable 
thing," replies the adviser. "Wherefore thus?" rejoins th:; 



LiTKRARV Criticism. 261 

poet Arc you afraid that I should foci uneasy because the 
works of worthless poets arc preferred to mine? Nonsense. 
If Rome not clear in its judgment, should thuik h.L;htly ot 
any literary work, you should not concede or attempt to cor- 
rect the false tongue or needle of the scaR- ; nor seek thyselr 
to find, apart from thvsclf. I'or who :U Uome judps not 
pcrvcrsclv? < )h, if there was onlv the ri-ht to speak, l.ut 
Lihcre is then the ri-ht, when 1 look at the Rray hau" and 
that our morose life and chihlish sj.orts s-iven up, we may 
exercise severity like the .guardians of youth m censurmLC the 
faults of others. , 

'I he 1 alin satirist, in this collo.juv between hnnselt and 
an imaginary friend, portravs the literary mama that pre- 
vailed at Rome at that time, and the pertmacity of spnit 
displayed to ol)tain literary honors. The exhibition which he 
preU-iUs of it has a faithful rei)resentation and counterpart: 
i„ the literary world at the present day. The t^cnera <hi- 
fusi,.n ..f knowledge and of intellectual culture, and tlv.> 
wonderful facilities afforded by the press l..r the expressKjn 
and communication of thought, have rendered the number of 
writers nmltitudinous. The flowering of American intellect 
in the domain of literature has been like the blossoming 
exuberance that atten.ls the footsteps of Spring m a Southern 

clime. . , 

Many without possessing the genius of song, essay tn, 
task of writing verse. 1< ditors may protest against mediocre 
poetry "the waste-basket" may yawn with threatening 
moutii'but still thev continue to seii<l up iheir pieces. When 
the cacocthcs scnbcndi has sei/.ed upon the mind, and it has 
from the muses' cup drunk dec]) of Pegasean nectar, it 
comes under a spell of enchantment that no waving o the 
wand of reason can dissipate. Oi all the infirmities ofthc 
human mind this one admits of a reasonable excu.se, as it is 
the effort of the soul to reach forth and grasp the crown of 

immortality. . , , ^ 

The poet, in the execution of his task, i^roceerls to sa inzc 
the false desire for i)ra4se that promi.tcd the Roman nobility 
to enter the walks of literature, and to expose the meretricious 
arts they resorted to in order to i)rocure popular jipplause in 
the recitation of their poetical compositions, lie arraigns 



262 Essays and' Addresses. 

Nero, the Emperor, who affected the author, aspired to poetic 
fame and was the leader in pandering- to corrupt the pubHc 
taste and sentiment. " Ha, old man," says he, "dost thou 
prepare lascivious baits for other ears? For ears to whose 
immoderate flatteries even you without power to blush are 
forced to say enough ?" But, says a third person, " What 
good to have learned unless your knowledge shall burst forth 
from your {jccorc) heart like leaven swelling in the dough, 
or the wild fig tree shooting forth its roots?" "Then thy 
knowledge is nothing unless another person may know thee 
to know this," replies the poet. "I'ut it is beautiful to be 
pointed at with the finger and to have it said : ' This is he.' 
Does it weigh nothing that your poems are read in the 
schools and committed to memory by noble boys ?" 

" Men applaud. Will not the ashes of the poei be happy? 
AVill not the sepulchral monument rest lightly upon his 
bones and from his mound violets spring?" asks the satirist 
ir gentle irony. " You deride," says the adversary, " and 
indulge too much in a wrinkled nose. Will there be one who 
denies that he desires to have deserved the encomiums of the 
people? and having composed worthy of immortality, to 
leave songs fearing not to be used for wrapping purposes at 
the fish market and the perfumer's shop?" 

Whoever thou art ; O, thou whom I have made to speak 
from the opposite, when I write, if by chance something goes 
out verv fit, this is a phenix ; and if something still goes out 
verv fit, I fear not to be praised, for my fiber is not insensible. 
But I deny thy {cugc) admirable and thy (bcUc) charm- 
ing words of applause to be the end and utmost degree 
of virtue. Are they not applied to all sorts of writing? to 
(elegidia) trifling songs which leaders filled with undigested 
knowledge have dictated? to everything that is written by 
the rich and titled from couches of citron-wood? 

The satirist severely condemns the spirit of adulation prev- 
alent, and as an example of it depicts Nero calling upon his 
courtiers to tell him the truth about his poem just recited. 
He addresses the tyrant and asks him, how is it possible that 
such men will speak the truth when they are afraid of oft'end- 
ing him? You wish that I speak? You are an old fool to 
write verses, when, from the sesquipedalian projection of 



LiTKRARY Criticism. 263 

your stomach, it is evident you delight more in gluttony tlian 
in intellectual pursuits. 

O Janus, seeing- before and behind, whom from the rear 
no finger shaped as a stork's ImII, nor molMle hand in imitation 
■of lofty ears, nor tongues poked out as far as that of a thirsty 
Apulian dog, might deride ! Ye authors, who by nature 
have no eyes in the backs of your heads, take care lest you 
■expose yourselves to ridicule by writing silly verses. In this 
apostrophe and comic pantomime, this Latin satirist counsels 
against vanity and ill-advised pursuit of literature. 

This ancient mirror of criticism may reflect some of the 
foibles of the literary world of to-day. 



LITERARY CRITICISM FROM JUVENAL- 
SATIRE I. 

PARAPHRASE AND COMMENT. 

This .Satire contains a bold, graphic and animated account 
of the general discouragement under which literature at that 
time labored at Rome. The old Latin poet says the hope of 
reward and the reason why the learned apply themselves to 
literary pursuits is in Caesar (Domitian) only. For he alone 
in this age looks with favor upon the neglected Muses, when 
now distinguished and well-known poets seek to rent a bath- 
room at (iabii or a baker's oven at Rome, in order to earn a 
livelihood. Some think it neither menial nor base to be made 
criers (praeconcs) when Clio, the Muse of song, hungry 
leaves Aganippe, with its lonely valleys, and moves into the 
halls (atria) of trade. For, if no quadrans (copper coin) is 
shown to the votaries of literature in the Pierian shade, they 
love the name and pay of Machciera, the auctioneer, and 
would rather sell copper vessels, tripods, chests and baskets 
to the bidders standing round, for the commission on sales 
•entrusted to them. This is more satisfactory than if, as 
umpires in the ideal realms of the poet, they are called upon 
•.to declare that as seen which doth not appear. 

Still no one, says the poet, is compelled to perform 



264 Essays and Addresses. 

unworthy labor after this who unites grand and lofty expres- 
sions with tuneful measures, and has fed upon the laurel. 
" O ye youthful aspirants," he exclaims, "gather courage to 
yourselves : let the favor of the leader (emperor), who seeks 
the renown of genius for himself, descry and stimulate you. 
If 3'ou think, by an}' means otherwise, aid and support of 
your affairs are to be looked for, and the vellum, with its 
exterior stained to a saffron hue with oil of cedar, is filled, 
you may sooner demand tablets of wood to commit to flames, 
or shut up and lay aside your books for the moths. Break 
your reeds (pens) and blot out the battles of wakeful nights, 
ye wretched, who as bees store away the honey sweets of 
sublime strains in little cells, that the statue of your half- 
starved images may be crowned with ivy and set up in the 
temple of Apollo." 

There is no ulterior hope ; the avaricious wealthy have 
learned only to admire, only to praise, the well-written and 
eloquent poem or treatise, as children the gay and dazzling 
plumage of Juno's bird. But the time of life that is patient 
of the toil of the ocean, the helmet and the mattock, flows 
from you. Then weary cares spring up in your mind, and 
your old age, however eloquent, when clothed in rags, detests 
itself and' the Muses that have left it in such a deplorable 
situation. If poets, inflamed with the sweetness of fame, 
ma'y desire to recite, the temple opens to them its halls of 
variegated marble. They may do this, and it will be tracing 
furrows in the light sand and turning up the soil with a 
sterile plow. For, if they leave off, the habit of a huitful' 
ambition holds them in its coil ; an incurable passion for 
v/riting holds many, and they grow old sick in heart. 

The mind devoid of anxiety, free from every bitter of life, 
fond of sylvan groves, and which drinks deep from Aonian 
fountains, makes illustrious the poet to whom there may be- 
no common talents ; who draws nothing from a vulgar source 
nor coins a trivial song in an ordinary style. For the poor 
poet, without money, in that day and night in which his body 
needs, is neither able to sing in Pierian cave nor to touch the 
ivy-entwined thyrsus. When Horace wrote his divinest 
verses he was sated with good cheer, and prospered under 
the patronage of Maecenas and Augustus. What place is 



Literary Criticism. 265 

there to genius unless, when they harass it with song alone^ 
and our breasts are inspired by the lords of Cirrha and Nysa^ 
not admitting the double cares of poetry and business. 
Neither was it from a pallet spread down for a couch of 
repose at night the poet was inspired to conceive that work 
of a great mind — the chariots and horses, the countenances 
of the gods and what kind of scourge confounds the Rutul- 
ians. If a decent lodging-place had been wanting to Virgil 
as a boy, he never would have been able to describe the 
snaky tresses of Alecto ; the trumpet silent would have 
uttered nothing great of war, nor have called the Latin 
rustics and the Trojan bands to meet in deadly conflict. 

The range and scope of literature at the present day among 
enlightened nations is so great that it stands unparalleled in 
all epochs of time, and crowns the century as the golden age 
ot literary progress and intellectual culture ; the field it opens 
for survey embraces not only the vast and varied productions 
of modern mind and thought carried to the highest degree of 
culture, but also the literary stores of antiquity brought forth 
and spread before the reading world upon printed page, 
enhanced by the charms of pictorial embellishments an.l 
beauty of mechanical 'execution. Thousands of books of 
every variety are annually published. Add to this, the news- 
paper in its ubiquity is daily bearing its items of news, mis- 
cellaneous intelligence and photos of many-colored life to- 
every home and household- in the land. The votaries of 
science in pursuit of knowledge are exploring all lands, and 
the eyes of the nations are turned to them to catch and hail 
with delight each ray of light that falls upon the path of 
human progress. 

The facilities wdiich the press, at the present day, furnish 
to authors to bring themselves and their literary productions 
before the public mind are immeasurable as compared with 
the stylus, the wax and parchment of the Roman or the 
papyrus of the Greek, and the laborious work of the hand. 
They are so easy of access that no depths of poverty may 
exclude any literary aspirant. The numerous journal-^ and 
magazines extant are glad to have well-written articles for 
their columns and the gems and blossoms of poetry for the 
nooks and corners. They become valued sponsors to authors 



266 Essays and Addresses. 

in their career to literary distinction. They bring the writer 
and his book or Hterary production to notice, and with kind 
words and according to the degree they think fit to pubHc 
favor, and become dispensers of a temporary fame. But the 
permanent renown which any book may obtain will at last 
depend upon its own intrinsic merits and its adaptation to 
please the popular taste. The generous course which the 
Advocate has pursued towards contributors in the use of its 
columns is worthy of high encomium. It generously designs 
to foster Southern literature and home talent. 

In the American world of letters during the present cen- 
tury many distinguished names appear, and their writings 
hold no mean place in the world's literature. Among those 
of marked literary excellence may be mentioned Washington 
Irving as a delightful prose-writer, and Henry W. Longfel- 
low, whose works proclaim him as a full-orbed poet. They 
won not only fame but wealth in their long careers as authors, 
and came to a ripe and tranquil old age full of honors and 
the charms of letters, and in the enjoyment of ease and lux- 
ury. They furnish fascinating examples of successful 
authorship, but they are not common in the realm of letters. 

That Southern climes., with their sunshine and flowers, 
empurpling beauty of their skies and bland climates, as 
Greece and Italy, are the favored abodes of literature and the 
arts, has not been fully' verified in the literarv history of the 
South. Though as fair a land as "ever a zephyr kissed or an 
•ocean bathed," the contributions of Southern minds to liter- 
ature have been limited in extent and of a transient char- 
acter. Though the South abounds in institutions of learning 
and has a high standard of intellectual culture, yet its edu- 
cated minds have engaged in literary pursuits for recrea- 
tion only, as if sauntering into a garden and culling 
flowers to form a nosegay to please a passing whim. I^iie 
practical arts of life have engaged their attention and talent. 
Though Southern genius has produced no grand epics, yet it 
has given birth to poems that will live forever. As such mav 
be cited " The Dirge of the Old Year," by Prentice ; " The 
Bivouac of the Dead," by O'Hara ; " The Conquered Ban- 
ner." bv Father Rvan, and a long list of others. But how 



Poetical Contriijutions. 267 

few of them realized financial compensation for their literary 
labors ! 

Let it be that there is no pecuniary reward to the poet, 
yet happy and blessed is he whose lips the Muse of Song has 
kissed and bosom inspired. To him the world is a godlike 
poem. The forest, water, field and air tell to him a his- 
tory, and in his heart flow streams of delight. The eternal 
love, which never has failed, shines to him in triumph upon 
•every billow ; he divests the tones of their dark veil. Silence 
itself is roused and breaks forth into shouts of joy, the arch 
•of heaven becomes an echoing glory, and the enraptured 
mortal hears all the angels sing. 



POETICAL CONTRIBUTIONS. 

It is a question of thoughtful infjuiry to literary minds 
why eligible poetry should not have a place in the reading- 
matter of a religious journal. And scruples upon this point 
may originate from the popular notion that poets are of lighr, 
•airy minds, mere butterflies in the blossoming field of litera- 
ture, that alight for the hour, feeding on bloom-dust and 
sunshine, and their writings are melodious trifles that afl'ord 
no solid instruction. Also, the opinion prevails with some 
that the genius of song is a rare intellectual endowment that 
is born with the soul, and they would restrict the writing of 
poetry to those alone who possess the gift. They conjecture 
that it is as natural for such to sing their lays, as it is for tlie 
"birds in springtime to fill field and grove with their carol- 
ings. 

In furtherance of this thought, Pope says he sung from 
the cradle — that he opened fiis infant lips and the numbers 
came. Ovid, the Latin poet, in the records of himself for 
the instruction of future generations, says coelestia sac'a 
(poems sacred to the Muses) pleased him when a boy — that 
lie was stealthily drawn into their service. Having been often 
told l)y his father that it was a useless culture, he was moved 
l3y his words. Helicon being entirely abandoned, says he, I 
attempted to write words free from poetic measure; of its 



268 Essays and Addresses. 

own accord, a poem came adapted to numbers, and thai: 
which I tried to speak was verse. 

That poets are of idle, vagrant mind and by fancy led has- 
nu foundation in fact. The bees that go forth in the begin- 
ning of summer into the fllowery fields to gather honey to 
store up in their waxen cells are not more busy and toiling 
than are the poetic hive in their labors in the floral realm of 
thought. Horace, old Rome's lyric poet, compares himself 
to a Matinian bee that with assiduous toil gathers fragrant 
thyme among the groves of the moist Tiber ; thus did he 
construct the laborious verse. The name of poet is derived 
from the Greek word poic", which signifies to work or to^ 
labor. It is not sufficient that poems arc beautiful ; they 
should be affecting, and whithersoever they please, lead the 
m.ind of the reader. The bloom and elegance of language will 
soon cease to charm. There must be beauty of moral topics- 
and pith of thought to render poetry laudable and enduring. 

In his "Ars Poetica," Horace says that good sense is both 
the first principle and parent-source of good writing. This is- 
exemplified in the writings of the illustrious poets of all ages 
and nations, Homer, Virgil, Shakespeare, Burns and others. 
They drew from the great pattern of life and manners that 
nature unfolds to view, and wrote and sj>oke with oracular 
wisdom and truth. The wise and pithy sayings of Shake- 
speare and Burns, which have mixed and mingled with the 
English speech and language and have become a part of it, 
have made these poets ever-living preachers to hiunanity. 
" To step aside is human " of Burns, and " let all the ends 
thou aimest at be thy country's, thy God's, and truth's " of 
Shakespeare, with hundreds of other like maxims from their 
pages, are to-day dispensing holy and loving admonitions tO' 
mankind as when they were first published to the vvorld. 

It cannot be said of poetry that it is inutile in the domain 
of literature. Its nature, character and history preclude any 
such opinion. Coleridge defines it as " the blossom and' 
fragrance of all human knowledge, human thoughts, human 
passions, emotions, language." It leads out the mind mfo the 
realm of the ideal and awakens aspirations that are uplifting 
to the soul. Poets are interpreters of Nature, '* that great: 



Poetical Contributions. 269 

missionary from on high that preaches to us forever in tones 
-of love, writes truth in all colors, on manuscripts illuminated 
with stars and flowers." Poetry stands divinely approved, as 
being the form of speech and vehicle in which the Almighty 
was pleased, through several of the inspired writers of the 
Bible, to make known to the world revelations of His will 
and purposes both in providence and redemption. 

The Book of Job, the oldest volume of the Scriptures, is. a 
j)oem, and the most extraordinary composition of any age or 
country. It stands alone and unrivaled, not only in its 
literary excellence, but in its historical importance. In th6 
•calendar of time its epoch is the early morn of creation, and 
it sheds light upon the gray cloud that rests over the dawn of 
the ages. Its argument is the providence of God and the 
duty of man. The drama which it comprises uplifts the 
curtain from the invisible, unveils the resplendent tribunal 
of the Almighty, reveals the existence of angels and their 
agency in the execution of the divine will, establishes the 
entity of a chief spirit of evil and an attendant host, as powers 
of darkness in the world, and exhibits- the sublime spectacle 
of a good man severely tried with troubles and afflictions, 
triumphant in his fidelity and crowned of God with honor. 
Thus this book becomes the Depository of Patriarchal 
Religion. 

The Psalms are also examples of metrical composition. In 
them poetry and music unite in the service of the sanctuary, 
direct into communion with God and aid in the celebration of 
his praise. Their excellence is so exalted that the " blessed 
Spirit " is assigned as originally their author. David wrote 
them, but spoke as he was moved by the Holy Ghost. He is 
therefore called " The Sweet Psalmist of Israel." 

Of the literature of all time, none is so well adapted as the 
Psalms to meet the spiritual and intellectual wants of the race 
of mankind, situated as they are as to the trials and sorrows 
of earth and to the prospective hope of immortalitv. They 
are so many sources of spiritual life and comfort springing 
up like fountains by the wayside to refresh and strengthen 
the Christian in his pilgrimage, as he journeys through time, 
-and midst the sorrows, trials and temptations of earth they 



270 Essays and Addresses. 

^ive him strength, courage and inspiration to achieve the 
victory and obtain the crown. 

Some wise and thoughtful mind has said, " Let me but 
write the songs of a people, I care not who writes their laws."^ 
In this expression of sentiment is indicated how great the 
sway of nuisic and verse joined in sweet unison have over 
the human mind and heart. So great is it, that it may be said 
the life and soul of a nation l)eats and throbs in responsive 
sympathy to its national air. 

What potency has " God Save the Queen " to quicken and 
strengthen the loyalty and devotion of Englishmen to the 
throne and scepter and government of their ocean-bound 
realm, and how much has it contributed to extend its sway 
and to keep it lirm and stable amid the fluctuations and 
downfall of the monarchies of Europe! The Marseillaise 
Elymn will to-day stir the great heart of the French people as 
when it aroused them to arms for liberty and to overthrow 
the royal tyramiy that had rested for centuries like a wither- 
ing blight on the fair land of h^rance. How like the blast of 
a martial trmnpet will "Scots, wha hae with Wallace 
bled" thrill the heart of Scotchmen ! "Yankee Doodle,'* 
played with the shrill notes of the wryneck fife and the 
thunder beat of the drum, stirs with emotion the bosoms of 
New England's sons. Oh ! how " Dixie " does thrill the 
Southern heart, though the TJonnie Blue Flag is forever 
fiuded and the " Grey Jacket " lies folded in the dark lap of 
oblivion ! 

Finally, what grace and benediction the hynnis written by 
Watts, Charles Wesley and other sacred poets have been 
to the Christian world ! How they have cheered and 
stren.gthened millions of Christians, both in the palace and in 
the cabin, in their conflicts with the sorrows, sin and tempta- 
tion of earth ! They have been the p?eans to victory sung by 
the sacramental hosts of Gotl, as they marched onward in the 
advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom. Alas ! the grand, 
inspiring hynms of the days of old-fashioned religion, when 
all the people praised God in the worship of the sanctuary, 
have, in many places, been sui)plantcd by the organ and the 
choir. It should be no wonder that the power and glory of 
God have gone up from the tabernacle and the hosts of Israel 
do not move forward. 



OniTUAHIKS. 271 



OBITUARIES. 



Tlie ol)i(iiary pa.^c of a rclij^ioiis journal, in view of its 
sacred purpose, truths and facts, should possess a high degree 
of interest for the church. It makes ])ul)lic record of the 
death of its memhers, chronicles their hirth, recites their 
virtues, and sets forth their example as Christians. It tells 
of the race run. the battle fought, the g-oal reached, the vic- 
tory won by the racer or warrior in Christ, and in the 
prophetic vision of faith awards the crown of life. This page, 
with its weekly record of human mortality, is to the pious 
and faithful mind, a memento mori, which, amid the fasci- 
nating dreams and busy engagements of life, all need ever to 
remind them that they are mortal. It is ever proclaiming to 
the world the sublime creed of the resurrection of the dead 
and eternal life. 

This page may truly be represented as. a literary 
mausoleum which holds the records and inurns the memories 
of the church's dead. Not as in Westminster Abbey are its 
silent crvpts reserved alone for monarchs, statesmen, war- 
riors and all that are great in fame or wealth, but the poor, 
tlie obscure, the humble believers in Christ have equal place. 
No higher lineage than to be born of the Spirit, no greater 
distinction than to be called sons and daughters of God. How 
grand and worthy of the spirit of the gospel is the benefi- 
cence of the church that thus honors tlic individuality, 
recognizes the immortal dignity of even the humblest mem- 
ber within its fold, and seeks to perpetuate his name and 
n'lemory with such fitting memorial. It fulfills well its work 
and vocation thus to point to a holy life, a triumi)hant death, 
and a heavenly diadem for the Christian. 

Death enters the homes of the families of men. It lays 
its crown of mystery upon the brow of some member of the 
household. It may be the sweet-lipped babe, or the aged sire, 
or the silver-haired matron, or the son, or daughter in the 
fresh flower of manhood, that is taken. As their loved forms 
lie before us, pale, speechless, motionless, our souls are 
stirred with inexpressible pity that they are thus bereft of life 



2 72 Essays and Addresses. 

Idv a strange, dread, unseen power, and that we cannot help 
them. They go from us, and there is neither sight nor sound 
to reveal to the rational sense the route they have taken. We 
miss their embrace, their love and daily association. Our 
love for them grows tenderer ; we would again clasp them in 
our arms and tell them how much we loved them. It is this 
state of heart and mind that guides and prompts in the 
writing of obituaries. Hence they are often too long. The 
living, in the deep affection of their hearts for the dead, want 
aH that can be said in tender tribute, and would heap eulogies 
upon their memories as they do flowers upon the turf that 
wraps their clay. 

It is a difficult matter to prescribe the length of an obitu- 
ary. It must necessarily vary with the subject to be noticed. 
It is proper that the name, dates of birth and death, and 
place of residence should be mentioned. Apart from these 
items, that the subject of obituary was a sincere Christian, 
lived a holy life and died in the faith, are* the main facts to 
be embraced and stated. 

That was a truly impressive obituary which the pastor 
wrote of one of his flock, a devout Christian woman, who 
requested that none should be written of her. Informing his 
•church paper of her death he said that " She was as good a 
Christian as he ever knew. The name of Jesus was the last 
word upon her tongue." It rivals the simplicity and brevity 
■with which the Scriptures record the death of its patriarchal 
■worthies. 

The sentiment that regards death as a dark calamity, and 
speaks of its bereavements as sharp afflictions, as expressed 
in obituaries and strains of condolence, is not supported by 
the teachings of the gospel. " For me to live is Christ, and 
to die is gain," says the Apostle Paul. It is natural to weep 
over the loss of friends. " Some pious drops the closing eye 
requires." 

As told in pathetic story, the Greek husband to whom no 
light of a future state had come, as before him lay in the 
marble stillness of death his loved Clemanthe. whose con- 
jugal aflfection had been to him earth's full cup of bliss, and 
whom now he would no more behold in life in all the wor- 
shipped graces of her loveliness, in the deep anguish of his 



CiiARACTKR Building. 273 

'Spirit could well exclaim, "Farewell, Cleniaiithc ! Farewell 
forever !" In the expression of his grief he could well indite 
a dirge with " every letter a tear, and every word the noise 
of a broken heart." But the Gospel of Christ comforts 
bereaved souls with the joyous hope of reunion after death 
with the loved and lost of earth in that world surpassing fair 
— the land of God. 



CHARACTER-BUILDING. 

AN ADDRESS DKLIVERKD AT THE I'UHLIC EXERCISES OF QUEEN 
CITY NORMAL SCHOOL JULY 6, 1 882. 

Respected yVuditory, — In catering for the literary enter- 
tainment of the hour, it would be pleasant to indulge in the 
airy flights of poetic fancy, to trace the scientific progress of 
the age in some of its marvelous features, or from the classic 
lore of antiquity purvey a feast of intellectual sweets, but I 
have preferred to choose a topic that is practical in its bear- 
ing and of which the occasion should be an ex])onent. This 
topic or sul)ject is Character-building, or the formation of 
■character. It is no dead theme of the past or s])eculative one 
of the present, but involves living issues of practical impor- 
tance. It challenges the earnest consideration equally of the 
old and the young; — that of the old in their solicitude as 
■parents for the future welfare of their children ; — that of the 
voung as they have their characters yet to achieve, a matter 
intimately connected with the great interests of life. 

Character is a familiar term. Though an abstract entity, 
yet popular sentiment has invested it witii a profound moral 
and social value. Its etymology presents a variety of con- 
structions. Construed in a moral sense, it signifies the result 
•of the possession and exercise of those qualities of heart and 
mind which exhibit rectitude of conduct in men and gain for 
them the esteem and confidence of their fellow-men. It is 
-not to be confounded with reputation, though considered as 
■svnonymous with it by Philips, the great Irish orator, in that 
eloquent rhapsody, " the cost of a priceless reputation," in 
18 si 



2 74 Essays and Addresses. 

the speech which he made in defense of a chent whose 
character had been traduced. It is not the achievement 
of ilhistrious deeds or the attainment of high social po- 
sition, though such may be the result of it. The military- 
hero by his warlike exploits, the man of letters by the' 
brilliant productions of his pen, or the politician by in- 
trigue or through the puffs of a venal press, may win re- 
nown and acquire distinction before the people, yet in pri- 
vate life be dissolute and devoid of the high and noble prin- 
ciples of character. It is not what an individual is reputed to^ 
be, but what he really is, that entitles him to the proud, 
distinction embraced in character. 

Many good and distinguished virtues are estimated as nec- 
essary to the constitution of worthy character. To be skilled 
in manly sports and to speak the truth were its insignia 
among the ancient Persians. In the old Spartan common- 
wealth which sought to make a nation of warriors, it was- 
affixed to martial courage alone. In the early days of the 
Roman republic it was comprised in the word honor. This 
sentiment has been adopted by mankind generally. " He is- 
the soul of honor " is esteemed the highest tribute that can 
be paid to the character of an individual. It includes by impli- 
cation all that which is meant in the term virtue as used hy 
the ancients to signify the sum of all moral worth and excel- 
lence. The old Romans so conceived of the relation betweert 
honor and virtue that in the shrines which they erected in- 
honor to them they so arranged that he who would worship 
at the altars of Honor must pass through the temple of 
Virtue. It is an atrocious perversion of the term by the duel- 
ist, when for some real or fancied insult or injury, he 
demands in reparation the blood of the aggressor and" 
challenges him to the field of mortal combat. In Scriptural 
language, honor is that principle fostered in the bosom which 
prompts to " whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things 
are honest, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things- 
are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report." It is a 
principle whose full measure and spirit can be found alone irr 
the teachings and practice of the precepts of Christianity. 

So defined, character in the estimation of the civilized 
world, has been deemed the crown and glory of life. The 



Character Building. 275 

great English poet long since has said that " good name in 
man or woman is the immediate jewel of the soul." The 
Bible with its divine oracular voice declares that it " is like 
unto precious ointment." These encomiums upon character 
are but the utterances of the common sentiment of mankind 
in regard to its moral value. The triumphs and glory of it 
as based upon honor and virtue are strikingly illustrated in 
history. When Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, sought to induce 
Fabricius to desert his country by offering him the fourth 
part of his kingdom, the virtuous Roman spurned the bribe. 
When the physician of Pyrrhus proposed to Fabricius to 
poison his master for a reward, Fabricius commanded him 
to be bound and led back to Pyrrhus. In admiration of the 
noble action, Pyrrhus exclaimed, "It is more difficult to 
turn the sun from his course than Fabricius from the path of 
honor." American revolutionary history furnishes an exhibi- 
tion of exalted character in the conduct of George Reade, one 
ot the signers of the Declaration of Independence. When an 
emissary of the king of England sought to bribe him from 
his allegiance to his country, he replied, " I am not worth 
the purchasing, but the king of England is not rich enough 
to buy me." In what striking contrast to this example of 
honor is the traitorous act of Benedict Arnold, who sold his 
country with himself to the king of England for fifty thou- 
sand pounds, and purchased for himself eternal infamy. 
What a noble illustration of character is presented in these 
modern times by the Hon. A. H. Stephens* in his public 
career ! Unswerved from the path of rectitude and duty to 
his country by any alluring bribe of office or power, he has 
s^ood, and still stands, as firm as a pillar of adamant amidst 
the political degeneracy of the age. WHiat a glowing tribute 
of homage does the character of Garfield deserve ! His 
vii"tues in private and public life won for him the esteem and 
confidence of his countrymen, and when he fell by the hand 
of the assassin, the nation shed the tear of universal regret 
and sorrow over his untimely fate. Though his brilliant 
career in life closed suddenly, yet he lived long enough to 
build for himself by his deeds and actions a monument to 



♦Stephens was living at the time. 



276 Essays and Addresses. 

perpetuate his memory more enduring than cokmins of Cor- 
inthian brass or shaft of Egyptian marble. 

The Southern people have been wont to boast of their chiv- 
alry as a proud and distinctive characterisiic. The spirit of 
chivalry as exhibited in the code of knighthood in medijeval 
times, that age of arms, required valor on the battle-field, 
magnanimity to foes, courtesy to woman, fidelity to truth and 
honor, protection to the weak, and succor to the distressed at 
the peril of life and limb. As displayed in Southern character 
in the peaceful walks of life, it stood opposed to the servile 
spirit that tamely submits to wrong, to the mercenary dispo- 
sition that barters truth and honor for gain, to the baseness 
of selfish ends in political promotion, whilst it practised hon- 
esty without legal constraint, rendered knighthood's defer- 
eijce to the gentler sex in common courtesies of life, and cher- 
ished loyalty to country with heroic devotion. This spirit 
flashed forth when the United States called for volunteers in 
the war with Mexico. Thousands of gallant Southern spirits 
responded to the call, and under " the Stars and Stripes " 
gathered in serried array, and fell as corpses or won undying 
fame in the battles of Palo Pinto, Resaca de la Palma, Cerro 
Gordo, Buena Vista and other fields of bloody strife. During 
the late war for four long and weary years the chivalrous 
spirit of the South repelled the numerous hosts of the invad- 
ing foe from Southern soil. It had its impersonation in the 
great and honored Lee, and other gallant leaders of the Con*- 
federate arms, and in the thousands of private soldiers 
" unknown to fame," who endured the brunt of many a hard- 
f(jught battle, and who succumbed only to overpowering 
might when the Southern Cross went down in defeat but not 
in disgrace at Appomattox. It has been predicated that the 
light of this spirit was quenched when the flower of the 
South perished upon the fatal fields of Sharpsburg and Get- 
tysburg. It has been said that the sad changes wrought by 
the war in the estate and condition of the Southern people, 
in bowing their proud necks to the yoke of servile drudgery, 
have extinguished the chivalric spirit which in other days 
prompted them to regard the escutcheon of a pure name and 
lofty virtue of more value than pelf or power. If it is dead. 



Character Building. 277 

let Soutlicrn manliood revive it and wear it as a noble grace 
of character. 

True and worthy character is not the product of chance or 
of the efiforts of a few days, but the result of years of culti- 
vation and discipline. The work of forming it begins in 
childhood. This is the critical period. The training which a 
child receives in the nursery and during the term of youth 
will in a large measure determine the future cast and color- 
ing of character in manhood or womanhood. " As the twig 
is bent the tree's inclined" expresses a practical truth that 
finds a place and demonstration not only in the natural, but 
also in the moral world. " Train up a child in the way he 
should go and he will not depart from it," is a declaration of 
the Scriptures. 

Upon parents devolve the task and duty of giving the first 
impressions to the character of the child, for they are in a 
measure the arbiters of the future destiny of their children. 
They cannot change the natural disposition, but they can bend 
the twig. How shall they perform the duty of training the 
immortal germs of the home plot that they may grow up as 
stately olive plants should be an important inquiry to parents. 
How delicate the task ! how grave the responsibility ! With 
what wise restraint should they check all vicious tendencies ! 
With what kindly nurture foster all good inclinations as they 
appear in their children ! With what earnest effort should 
they seek to instil in the youthful minds virtuous principles 
of action ! With what care should they direct the childish 
afifections, gadding like the tendrils of the unstayed vine, to 
noble objects to enclasp them with the ivy's embrace! How 
diligently should they instruct them with rich and varied 
precepts wisely drawn from books, the volume of Nature, or 
the living scenes of men and manners of the present ! How 
correct should be the example they set, when children resem- 
ble their parents in the moral features of character more 
frequently and faithfully than in the lineaments of counte- 
nance! How vigilantly should parents guard against the 
vitiating influences of evil companionship, which, like side- 
magnets upon the needle of the compass, so often deflect the 
young from that line of duty parental advice has marked out ! 
Above all, they should endeavor to make home the abode of 



278 Essays and Addresses. 

all that is loving in association, refined in manners, elevating 
in morals, instructive in knowledge, and genial in Christian 
piety. " Character groweth daily and all things aid its 
unfolding." Parents conjointly can do much, hut especially 
the mother, in the work of shaping and impressing the char- 
acter of the child. ^Vith her the work begins. What may 
she not accomplish, and what has she not accomplished, 
through the potent agency of maternal love? It was a 
mother's hand that sowed in the mind of Washington those 
seeds of virtue and truth whose development gave his char- 
acter its impress of greatness and made him to be the fit 
leader of the American people through the storms of revolu- 
tion to Liberty and Independence. The mother gives to the 
youthful mind its principles of action; it go^s out into the 
world ; it acts and reacts ; and the historian of after years, 
glancing with telescopic eye back over the past, beholds the 
results of a mother's influence reflected in the features of the 
present generation. 

The schoolroom with its teachers, social surroundings and 
appliances comes in to supplement the training of home in 
the work of character-building. Though secondary in time 
and place it is not in efliciency. It is a mooted question which 
exerts the greater influence upon the child, the parent or the 
teacher. As their guide in learning, their censor in manners, 
and invested with the reverence given to authority, the 
teacher certainly should exert a large influence over those 
whom he instructs. If he regards himself merely as their 
agent or instrument for the work of intellectual training, and 
according to the current notion, deems the full measure of his 
K obligations performed when he has imparted the requisite 
amount of needful instruction, his influence upon his pupils 
will be restricted if not meager. But should this be the mete 
and bound of the teacher's duty ? As with his pupils he treads 
the realms of knowledge or expounds to them the mysteries 
of science, why should he not diligently seek to inspire them 
with a love of all that's true and great in sentiment and 
action? If this he does, his work as an educator will be 
largely beneficent upon the development of youthful charac- 
ter. The teacher should not only possess the necessary scho- 
lastic attainments, but be also an example in morals and 



Character Building. 279 

manners worthy of imitation. Truly wise is that community 
that thus conceives of the duty and ofifice of the teacher, and 
.looks not to cheap tuition, but to the requisite qualifications 
and to the higher welfare of their c'.iildren. It is a deserving 
■<:ompliment to Queen City, that they have this intelligent 
'-conception of the work and duty of the teacher and have 
-exhibited it in their selection of the present principal of their 
.school and his assistant as the educators of their children. 

The idea is prevalent that it matters not what text-books 
•are used, so they but contain the principles of the science 
•desired to Tdc taught or learned, and the choice of them is 
".left to ihe option of the teacher or to the caprice or conve- 
nience of tlie pupil. But text-books are not the mere passive 
instruments of mental training. They have a greater or less 
moral influence dependent upon their composition and 
•arrangement. In illustration of this I would briefly refer to 
Webster's Elementary Spelling-book. Who of those persons 
who were so fortunate as to use it in their childhood school- 
days do not remember well the stories of the old man who 
found a rude boy up his apple tree, or of the lawyer and 
.farmer, and especially of dog Tray, which are appended as 
reading exercises for the young tyro in learning? Who that 
lias read them in his schoolboy days forgets them even in 
-after-life ? The moral which each conveys has often served to 
^uide in life. How often have parents used them to point 
tlie instruction and advice which they give to their children. 

An invaluable aid in the formation of character is that 
Tendered to the young by books. Whilst they add to the 
•stores of knowledge and enlarge the circle of thought, they 
furnish incentives that prompt to virtue or deter from vice. 
.Much may be done by biographical reading. 

" The lives of all great men remind us. 
That we may make our own sublime," 

is a truth felt and seen. It is told of Themistocles that he 
said the glory of Miltiades would not let him sleep. Many a 
noble characten has been wrought from the reading of Plu- 
tarch's Lives. Many a youth has been stimulated to a noble 
■career in life by the examples of the illustrious men that 
adorn the historical gallery of the past. An incident illus- 



28o Essays and Addresses. 

trating tJiis influence has come under my personal observa- 
tion. One of my college classmates was presented by a friend' 
with the biography and speeches of Burges, who rose from- 
poverty and obscurity to a seat in the Congress of the United 
States and won distinction l)y his oratory. This awakenetl the 
dream of ambition in the breast of my friend. lie resolved' 
that he too would go to Congress. So great was the social 
distance between his position as a poor student and that of a 
place in the United States Senate, then the most august body 
in the world, that the expectation of ever consummating his- 
design seemed "the baseless fabric of a vision." Twenty 
years rolled away, and, strange to tell, that student realized 
the dream of his youth. He did reach and fill the position of 
United States senator for six years. That student was the- 
Hon. T. M. Norwood of Georgia. Books, those silent teach- 
ers of wisdom, are printed daily by the thousands, but how 
many households in the South are destitute of them. Hov\r 
many thousands of youth are growing up with starved intel- 
lects and dwarfed characters for want of the nurture and' 
nourishment which a pure and instructive literature affords. 
How many thousands there are whose only mental pabulum* 
is that which is furnished by " Dime Novels," or the details- 
of outlawry and crime in the lives of Jesse James and other 
books of like type, and the unhealthy fiction in the New 
York Ledger with which the press weekly deluges the coun- 
try. " The unnatural, the romantic, and the monstrous in' 
literature are sought with passion, and seized and devoured 
with a cormorant avidity, while moral paintings fresh and" 
glowing ujion the canvas of time and histor\-, true to nature,, 
and connected with futurity, are turned from with indiiTer- 
ence, or looked at, at best, with half-averted eyes." The ten- 
dency of this literary taste and reading is to corrupt the- 
morals and prostitute the intellect, and what will be its- 
effects upon the character of the rising generation is a ques- 
tion that may well awaken the serious concern of the patriot,, 
the moralist and the Christian. 

There is an agency which is indispensable in the forming 
of true and lofty character. It is customary to ignore the- 
mention of it upon occasions like the present, and to isolate- 
it from the secular aflfairs of life and confine it to a separate.- 



Character Building. 281 

theater of action. This instrunientahty is the Christian reHg- 
ion. The precepts it gives are purer and wiser than ever fell 
from the h'ps of human wisdom. The incentives which it 
presents to inspire to noble action and virtuous conduct in 
the crown of eternal life are adapted to man as immortal 
being. It exhibits in its author the only true and faultless 
example of virtue the world can boast. Search the pages of 
history, consider the characters of the great and good of all 
time ; they are marred by blemishes. None such appear in the 
character of the author of the Christian religion, who is pre- 
sented by divine authority to mankind as their only proper 
exemplar. The knowledge which the Scriptures impart, the 
revelation they make of the true standard of virtue in the will 
of God, the divine aid they afford to man in the work of 
uprightness, the special influence wrought upon his moral 
being by the Holy Spirit, the Great Energizer of universal 
nature, are absolutely necessary to form that character where 
" every virtue sets its seal to give the world assurance of a 
man." However just, however moral, however honorable, 
however learned an individual may be, Christianity in its 
teachings and practice is necessary to complete the work of a 
symmetrical character. The beauty and grace it imparts is 
like that which the artist gives to Parian marble or to pol- 
ished ivory enchased with gold. 

To the youth of this audience, as well as to the pupils of 
the school, would I earnestly commend the work of charac- 
tci -building. You are in the morn and licpiid dew of youth. 
Life spreads out before you with many an alluring object of 
pursuit. You fondly indulge in pleasing dreams of wealth 
and distinction to be won upon the arena of active life. You 
may not realize them. The gifts of fortune and the ped- 
estals of fame are reserved for the few. There is one thing 
which all can accomplish, and which is worthy of highest 
effort. It is the acJiicvcnient of character. You may be 
aided by the precepts and example of your parents and 
teachers, but the work is essentially your own. Engage in 
it with zeal and diligence. Let all "your aims be truth's,, 
your country's and your God's," and building upon this 
broad foundation, the fabric of character you will rear will 
be as a stainless shaft of marble to perpetuate your mem- 



282 Essays and Addresses. 

ory among^ men, when your bodies shall repose in the silent 
chambers of the dead. 



THE SOUTH, 



ADDRESS DELIVEKED AT THE REUNION OF THE CONFEDERATE 
VETERANS, DOUGLASSVILLE, TEXAS, JUEY 2 1, I9OO. 

Ladies and Gentlemen and Confederate Veterans, — The 
South is my theme. I love the South to admiration ! I love 
it, as by nature mapped out and bounded on the north by the 
Potomac with its arrowy current ; as girdled on the east by 
the Atlantic with its dark blue wall of waters ; as bordered 
on the south by the Gulf of Mexico with its stormy waves ; 
and as outlined on the west by the Rio Grande with its 
sinuous channel. The South is a genial clime, an imperial 
land, a broad and lovely domain, arched by skies of blue, 
traversed by limpid streams, enridged by mountain chains of 
majestic sweep, dotted with picturesque hills, diversified with 
plains and valleys "stretching in pensive quietness between," 
and having the sweet vicissitudes of the blossoming beauty 
and fragrance of spring, the prime and luxuriant verdure of 
summer, the golden fruits of autumn, the fireside com- 
forts and joys of winter. The South is " the fairest land ever 
a zephyr kissed or an ocean bathed." 

" The South is dead," said an orator on an occasion like 
this immediately after the close of the Civil War. The 
thought was, that as a sectional area with its conventional 
boundary line, honor and political eminence in the past, the 
South had ceased to be. The political outlook and situation 
of things seemingly warranted the opinion and assertion. The 
flower and chivalry of the country had gone down in liopeless 
slaughter on the battle-field. The land was desolate and 
impoverished, and in thousands of homes, widows and 
orphans wept tears of sorrow with unavailing regret. The 
Southern Confederacy, as the dream of secession, was 
entombed in political grave. Its chosen national emblem, 
" The Conquered Banner," as sung by its poet, was furled 
forever. The " Grey Jacket " was folded in the lap of 



The South. 283 

oblivion. Time in its llij^lit has fully confirmed the fact of 
the extinction of the republic of Southern hope and ambition, 
and revealed that " the South was not dead," but happily 
still lives and retains many of the distinctive features that 
•characterized its people in other days — days of yore. 

The Jews, the once chosen and favored people of God, but 
now peeled and scattered of Him, without a nation, an altar, 
a priest or king, gather annually in a recess in the walls of 
Jerusalem near where the temple stood, to bewail the loss of 
their former kingdom and glory, and movirn for its restora- 
tion. But Confederate veterans in their reunions lay no 
blooming wreath of hope upon the crumbled altars of the 
republic of their dreams as smitten in its struggling throes 
inlo existence, nor do they wish to evoke it from the shadows 
of the past or to relay its corner-stone. In the purposes and 
wisdom of Almighty God, the Confederacy " was just not 
to be." The people of the South have long since bowed in 
humble submission to the divine dispensation. As lovers of 
liberty and patriots, the Confederate veterans hold their 
reunions in sacred and august memorial of " The Lost 
"Cause," the principles which it represented, the gallant con- 
duct of the South in the war, and its unstained escutcheon, 
and to pay tribute of honor to their deceased comrades. 

The South, " the Sur. ly South," as called in its pet name, 
must still live and be ever dear to all Southern hearts. As in 
harmonious union with the North constituting the full-orbed 
republic of the past, equal in honor, rights and privileges ; 
with its sons at the helm of State guiding in the affairs of 
the government and by their wise statesmanship and military 
achievements rendering the nation great and honored, the 
South must ever be imperishable to us. Having been inter- 
v/oven, from the first, in its political life and history with the 
republic, to blot it out would despoil the nation of much of 
its glory. It would eliminate from its historic page the names 
■of Washington, Patrick Henry, Jefferson, Madison, Jackson, 
Clay, Calhoun, and a long list of heroes, patriots and sages, 
sons of the South, whose wise and faithful public service to 
the country laid the foundation of its greatness and glory. 
I love the South, you love the South, and we all should love 
the South. It is our country, the home of our ancestors, the 



284 Essays and Addresses. 

sepulchre of our fathers, " the birthplace of Greatness, the 
abode of Liberty, the land of Patriotism, and the cradle of 
Genius." We loved it in our boyhood, we adored it in our 
youth, we went out to battle for it in our manhood, and we 
cherish an abiding affection for it in the gathering twilight 
of age. Nay, we do not spurn but hold it in hallowed remem- 
brance as Dixie vanquished and despoiled by its conqueror, 
bereaved of its sons, voiceless and crownless, as it stands in 
the past, Niobe-like in its desolation and its woe. The lan- 
guage and sentiment of our hearts to-day is 

" In Dixie's land we'll take our stand 
And live and die in Dixie." 

No country or people has richer or grander historical rec- 
ollections than the South. Being settled mainly by colonies 
from England, it derives honor and glory from its progeni- 
tors. The English as a people in their remote ancestry sprung 
from the Anglo-Saxon race, a branch of the great Teutonic 
stock of Central Europe, with an intermingling of accessions- 
of population from the republic of Rome, in its palmy days- 
of renown and conquest. They derived from the one the love- 
of personal liberty, and a sense of independence ; from the- 
other the long-established form of Roman civilization. In- 
the process of time, these ethnic elements coalescing devel- 
oped the modern gallant Christian nation of England, famous, 
in arts and arms through centuries past, and that to-day from 
its island-realm extends its sway to all lands the sun in its 
circuit visits with its light. In the body of immigrants from 
England that planted the Southern colonies of the New- 
World, there was a sprinkling of the chivalric Huguenots,, 
the blithe-hearted Irish and the staid Scotch. 

Nearly three centuries ago the corner-stone of the empire 
of republics that constitute the South as geographically 
designated was laid in the colony of \lrginia, planted by a 
band of emigrants from England. It was in the year 1607 
that the ship containing this cargo of human beings, seeking 
homes in the Western Hemisphere, bearing with them the 
institutions of European civilization, anchored at the mouth 
of the James River. Before them lay a land in all the pristine 
beauty and luxuriance of nature, an earthly paradise grand! 



The South. 285 

iincl glorious as a dream, in which to choose an abode. Sailing 
lip the river " whose banks were covered with flowers of 
■divers colors " and landing, they planted the settlement of 
Jamestown. After an intervening space of thirty years, by 
another band of English immigrants, the colony of Maryland 
was founded on the banks of a small stream tributary to the 
Potomac. It was established under the favorable auspices 
•of a mild climate, a fertile soil and the friendly disposition 
■of the Indians. Thus another altar was erected to civilization 
and Christianity in the New World. 

After another lapse of thirty years (in 1653-65), three 
-colonies were planted in the Carolinas. These were founded 
not by emigrants direct from England, but by Protestants 
from Virginia who would not obey the Church of England 
rule, by Presbyterians from Scotland, Quakers from Eng- 
land, and Huguenots from France. It should not be a matter 
•of surprise to the historian as he considers the germs of popu- 
lation of the Thirteen Colonies, to find the first resolution in 
favor of freedom and independence to originate at Mecklen- 
TDurg, North Carolina. 

After more than a half century (in 1732). the year that 
gave Washington to the world, James Oglethorpe, memor- 
ably described as " a hater of oppression," led forth a band 
•of a hundred emigrants, and embarked for the New World, 
Having arrived at the mouth of the Savannah River, he 
sailed up that stream a short distance, and, landing upon a 
blufif, laid out the streets of a city. 

As described, thus on the Atlantic shores of North Amer- 
ica were planted the settlements that formed the Southern 
tier of the thirteen original English colonies. Amid the 
seclusion of the wilderness they grew and expanded, and in 
the onward flow of years were gradually molded into political 
realms, assuming the forms and features and exercising the 
functions of organized government. Away from the eft'ete 
forms of the civilization of the Old World and amid the 
grandeur and glories of nature and trained in the hardships 
of pioneer life and in their struggles with the French. Span- 
iards and Indians, they became a hardy, virtuous and liberty- 
loving people. 

After a few brief years, in the course of events oppression 



286 Essays and Addresses. 

ciuuQ upon the colonics from the mother country. Laws were 
passed selfish and unjust, that tended to check and impair 
their weal and prosperity. The Southern colonies, in solenui 
league and covenant with the others of the Thirteen, joined 
with them in petitions and remonstrances to the throne and 
the Parliament of England for the redress of their griev- 
ances. They participated in every effort and rneasure made 
for relief. They did their part in calling and forming the 
Continental Congress that convened in the Senate hall of 
Philadelphia in A lay, 1775. They participated in all the pro- 
ceedings of that august hody, that with dauntless fortitude 
pursued its deliherations and matured its plans for the puhlic 
weal even when the storm of war was beating at the very 
portals of its council chamber. The Southern Colonies by 
their delegates in that Congress participated in the passage 
of " The Declaration of Independence," of which to have 
been one of its fifty-six signers was to have an imperishable 
place in American history. 

The delegates of the Southern Colonies in that Congres.s 
are worthy of special mention. There was George Washing- 
ton, who, being appointed as commander-in-chief of -the 
American forces, became the leader of the colonies through 
the storms of war to liberty and independence. A man with- 
out a model and without a peer. " First in war, first in peace, 
and first in the hearts of his countrymen." No clouds of 
sectional prejudice have sufficed to obscure the luster of his 
virtue, nor civil strife and blood to efface his place in the 
affections of the American people. Son of the South, he 
occupies the chief and most exalted place in the nation's 
pantheon of glory. Then comes Thomas Jefferson, the author, 
of " The Declaration of Independence." Next, Patrick 
rienrv, whose fervid eloquence animated the Congress to 
action and inspired them with fortitude and decision as 
darker grew ^he clouds of oppression and war. The other 
delegates from the Southern colonies, though of less fame, 
yet were of not less patriotism and virtue. 

The Southern colonies performed a brilliant part in the 
struggle for independence. It was characterized by heroic 
patriotism and indomitable valor of their sons in many a 
warlike exploit, and the entlurance l)y tjne people of cruel 



Thk South. 287 

treatment, for the sake of sweet liberty, at the hands of the 
British soldiery. Let fancy take wings and visit the ])attle- 
ments of Fort Moultrie, when the thimders of a British fleet 
bellowed on the shores of Charleston. See there a band of 
patriots struggling against the adversity of fate — all hopes 
of a retreat cut off — upon a narrow and open island — a bar- 
rier of palmetto logs their only rampart of defense. Do they 
shrink in dismay from a superior force? Oh! no. They 
look to the wharves of their beloved city, and see them 
thronged with their fellow townsmen, watching with breath- 
less anxiety the termination of that desperate game on which 
life and liberty are staked. The blood of Americans mantled 
high that day. Look around the l:)astions and see how well a 
Moultrie and a Jasper conclude the glorious strife. See 
McDonald cleft down by a murderous ball, and whilst he 
expires, hear him call to his comrades with his dying voice, 
" Let not liberty perish with me to-day." It thrills every 
bosom as an electric shock, and victory, at the close of the 
conflict, perches upon the American banner. 

Nor less illustrious was the patriotism of the mothers and 
daughters of the South in the revolutionary struggle. Do 
the clouds of adversity dim the prospect ? Do the hearts of 
the patriot soldiers wax faint under the scanty fare and 
hardships of war? These noble women with the inspiring 
words of sympathy revive their courage and dispense aid and 
comfort to relieve their wants and sufferings. " In conscious 
virtue bold," braving the disasters of the times, see Beauty 
bearing her cruise of wine and oil to minister unto the 
v/ounds of valor — the swooning soldier revives, and finds the 
angel form of Benevolence bending over his slumbers and he 
half forgets the cruel gashes that have marred his frame, as 
he beholds the gem that sparkles from her eye — " The tear 
most sacred shed for others' pain." 

The virtues of the women of the revolutionary period 
should be carefully embalnicd in memory. They are equally 
deserving of fame as the sisters of Pu1)licola, those moons of 
Rome, that were chaste as the icicle curdled by the frost 
from purest snow, and fervid as the solar beam in their devo- 
tion to their country. May the American mother ever point 
the emulation of her offspring to such .Spartan ma.^nanimity 



:288 Essays and Addresses. 

^s a Brenton, an Elliott and a Motte present in the revolu- 
tionary annals of the South. 

The Southern States have a brilliant record for prowess 
.and patriotism in the cabinet and in the tented field in the 
war of 1812 with Great Britain. The victory obtained by 
General Andrew Jackson over the British army in the battle 
.of New Orleans added to the escutcheon of national glory 
.and Southern honor. The statue of bronze in the Crescent 
City situate on the majestic " inland river " stands a per- 
petual memorial of the triumph. 

The policy of Southern statesmen and the valor of South- 
-ern soldiery in the war with Mexico aided largely in securing 
the annexation of Texas and the acquisition of that territory 
that extended the arch of empire of the United States to the 
Pacific ocean. The Sovith has thus contributed much to the 
power and greatness of the republic in the past, and to its 
-present proud position among the kingdoms and empires of 
the world. History records that after the Southern colonies 
had achieved their independence and become States or repub- 
lics, that they grew rapidly in population and in the develop- 
ment of their resources. They attained a high position and 
exercised a potential influence in the afifairs of the republic 
formed from the union of the States. The spectacle of civil- 
ization which they presented in i860 in moral and literary 
.culture, in social habits and manners and in political privi- 
leges and intelligence as a people, was never equaled in the 
past and never will be excelled in the future. 

The people of the South at that time were to be admired in 
many respects. They combined elegance with frugality, 
cultivated refinement without effeminacy, applied wealth to 
purposes of utility rather than ostentation, and esteemed 
poverty no disgrace provided that efforts were made to avoid 
it. The people mingled in unrestrained and cheerful inter- 
course in their capacity as private citizens, whilst due respect 
and reverence were had to those in authority, and especially 
to the unwritten laws, the usages and customs of society, the 
violation of which brings acknowledged disgrace upon the 
.offenders. They had their social entertainments and popular 
Kiiversion^s tihat dissipated cares and catered to the enjoyment 



The South. . 289 

of life, whilst a genial climate and a fertile soil afforded them 
all needed luxuries and delicacies. 

Being a democracy, the government was not administered 
in the interest of the few, but for the benefit of the many. 
Equality was shared in by all according to the laws in respect 
to private differences ; but according to merit as each one may 
have honored himself; not more distinguished from rank by 
public estimation than from virtue ; nor, on the other hand, 
being able to render service to the State on account of pov- 
•erty, he was restrained and checked from public employment, 
being hidden by the obscurity of his rank or condition. The 
.spirit of chivalry that pays deference and homage to the 
female sex, that prompts to honor and justice, and to the 
•defense of the weak against the strong, was a distinctive fea- 
ture of Southern manhood. The generous hospitality that 
leaves the latch-string on the outside of the door and extends 
a cordial welcome to the guest as long as he may choose to 
-Stay, abounded in Southern life and manners. These two 
•social graces were the " immediate jewels " of Southern 
•character. 

This picture of the South is no figment of fancy nor 
Utopian dream. It is real, and adorned with the divine light 
and virtues of Christianity ; the South, with its sisterhood of 
-republics, was greater than Greece save in the marble glories 
■of art, and greater than Rome save in extent of empire, those 
renowned nations of antiquity. Such was the South, and such 
was the spectacle of national prosperity, strength and glory 
which it presented in i860. It was wrapped in golden dreams 
of tranquillity and unapprehensive of the horrible tempest 
.that was gathering to smite it. 

As there are said to be spots on the sun's burning disk, so 
there were blots and blurs upon the picture given of the 
-civilization of the South. One, that has been greatly urged 
by the North, was the institution of African slavery. Much 
has been said concerning this social feature of the South by 
its friends and its foes. Its friends hold that where it pre- 
vailed in the mild and patriarchal form of servitude, the 
domestic relation and intercourse of master and slave were 
iull of the amenities of life and of reciprocal benefit to both 

19 si 



290 * Essays and Addresses. 

parties. Its foes would point out slavery as it existed in the 
cotton regions, where the pecuniary greed of the slave-owner 
crushed out the humanity of the man and barharous treat- 
ment of slaves prevailed. The institution is now forever 
extinct. 

Why war — fell war, with all its havoc and desolation — ■ 
should come upon this fair and beautiful land is one of those 
events and hai)penings that transpire in the divine adminis- 
tration of the afifairs of the vmiverse that the finite mind of 
man cannot fathom nor understand. The Civil War was so- 
great a crime against reason, civilization, humanity, political 
brotherhood and Christianity, that the North and the South 
each discard the responsibility of it. Each section has sought 
to exonerate itself from the charge of first casting down the 
gage of battle. After vainly seeking to solve the war and its- 
causes, the conclusion will be. that it was one of those things- 
in the plans of Divine Omnipotence " that was just to be." 
In the pride of human intellect and opinion each section 
claimed its cause to be true, just and patriotic, and has 
awarded high posthumous honors to its soldiers that perished' 
in the sanguinary strife. The South, overwhelmed by superior 
might, but not conquered, illustrious in martial renown,. 
though not crowned with victory, impoverished in financial 
resources, but rich in patriotism, has done wdiat she could to- 
honor the memory of her departed heroes. She has with each 
returning spring, on anniversary day, with solemn ceremony, 
decorated their graves wherever accessible with flowers. The 
custom of placing floral ofiferings upon the bier and tomb of 
the dead has prevailed among civilized nations from earliest 
anticjuity. What tribute more beautiful or more tenderly 
expressive of the sympathies of the human heart than to lay 
upon the sepulchres of our dear departed ones wreaths of 
flowers bearing the tints and fragrance of heaven and 
emblematic of purity and sweetness? Thus has the South 
associated and interwoven the honor rendered to its patriotic 
dead with the fundamental course of nature and the revolv- 
ing years of time. So that wherever the ashes of a 
Confederate soldier may repose, whether in the cemetery or 
on the hillside or on the lonely battle-field, loving human 



The South. 291 

hands in sweet harmony with gentle spring shall annually 
deck the hallowed spot with fragrant offerings. 

An oration in eulogy upon the dead, as it unfolds their 
deeds of patriotism and keeps their memories fresh in the 
minds of the living, has been adopted as a fit and appropriate 
commemorative observance. Pericles, the Athenian states- 
man, in his oration upon the removal of the bodies of those 
who fell in the Peloponnesian war from thebattle-field to the 
valor in deeds, that their honor should be illustrated in deeds, 
city of Athens, says that inasmuch as they had shown their 
alluding to the honorable interment of their bodies in the 
suburbs of the city in view of the Acropolis, its monument of 
glory. He thought it more fit to erect the marble shaft or 
the pillar of brass in memorial than to imperil the virtues of 
the many on one man's oratory from year to year. 

The Confederate dead are worthy of the most exalted 
m.emorials, be they tablets of marble or pillars of brass, to 
perpetuate their deeds and their memory. No braver soldiers 
or truer patriots ever went out to the tented field or marched 
in serried array to battle. The panegyric in most cases 
exceeds the actions, but will not excel the meed of praise due 
the achievements of those whom we now celebrate. No 
motives of ambition or dreams of wealth prompted them to 
leave home and all its endearments and to go out to war and 
risk their lives in battle. Thousands of them had no property 
in slaves or broad acres of land to defend. They had no 
earthly possessions save the darling wife and the sweet chil- 
dren in the home of the cot in the valley or on the 
mountain side or of the hovel in the city. They were animated 
alone by the principle of patriotism and the desire to take 
vengeance upon those who would despoil them of their home 
and country. Scorning that ignominious word cowardice, 
and courting danger, they rushed into the thickest of the 
battle and yielded up their lives at the height of glory in the 
deadly contest. They deserve illustrious sepulchres, not in 
v.-hich they lie, but in which their fame is preserved in ever- 
lasting remembrance for every occasion which may offer 
itself in word and deed. They may be unmemoriali;:e(l by 
tablets or epitaph, but the South, the entire South, with its 
broad and beautiful domain, shall be their sepulchre, and 



392 Essays and Addresses. 

"Each mountain rill and mighty river 
Shall roll mingling with their fame forever." 

And what of the iUustrious chief of the Confederacy — 
Jefferson Davis? What trihute shall the South render that 
will be in equipoise to the patriotic devotion of him who in 
his person bore the incarceration and fetters of the dungeon 
and all the indignity and humiliation that a despotic political 
party holding the reins of government in its vindictive spleen 
could inflict? Let her (the South) call " marbled honor from 
its caverned bed," "bring granite, bring iron and brass — dig 
deep " — lay broad the foundation — can she erect a monu- 
ment too grand and stately to tell posterity of his virtues as a 
hero and a i)atriot ? 

It is a matter of congratulation to all patriotic hearts that 
the women of the South have assumed the sacred duty of 
caring for the memory of the Confederate dead. It is a 
matter of high commendation that in the execution of it they 
are seeking to erect solid and permanent memorials of the 
Talor and patriotism of the gallant spirits of the South who 
3^ielded up their lives in their country's defense. Let them go 
on with the noble work, and in the polished marble and 
enduring granite rear up altars of memory to them upon 
-which tradition shall enkindle a vestal flame to burn through 
time. Let the daughters of the South of generations to 
come guard these altars and keep burning this flame with 
the ceaseless vigil- of the vestal virgins that guarded ancient 
Vesta's shrine. 

Among these devoted and patriotic women none deserves 
higher encomium or is entitled to fairer chaplet of honor than 
our Mrs. Curtright. With voice and pen she has toiled 
through the long years of the past with unabated zeal to raise 
funds to build a monument to the memory of the heroic band 
of the sons of Cass county who went out to battle at their 
country's call and died in its defense. To Mrs. Curtright is 
due the gratitude of Southern hearts for the consecration 
of mind and energy to this work. May it be told in sweet 
memorial of her wherever the story of the Confederacy shall 
come, as of Mary in the gospel, the breaking of the alabaster 
box of precious ointment and the pouring of it in fragrant 
effusion upon the Saviour's head. 



. The South. 293 

The efforts of the South by secession to estabHsh a sepa- 
rate and independent repubHc is called " The Lost Cause." 
It may seemingly appear that the sons of the South poured 
out their blood in libation upon their country's altar and sac- 
rificed their lives in vain. The great political principles of the 
sovereignty of the States and of the social compact that unite 
them under one government still exist in theory and prevail 
in fact. The recognition and observance of them are essential 
to the well-ordered administration of the affairs of the gov- 
ernment as formed from the union of States, as the centrifu- 
gal and centripetal forces to the harmonious movements of 
the planets in their orbits around a common center. When- 
ever they are eliminated from the life of the nation, it will 
cease to be a republic after the manner of our forefathers. 

Confederate Veterans: I tender you a cordial greeting 
and my sincere wishes for your serene enjoyment of this 
occasion. It may be to others, to the many, a festal scene, but 
to you it must necessarily call up sad and painful recollec- 
tions. This will truly be the case to those Veterans who 
loved the Confederacy with patriotic devotion, endured the 
hardships of the camp, passed through the perils of battle and 
bare in their bodies the "seamy scars" of wounds received. 
Such sacrifice and suffering rendered the " Lost Cause " dear 
to them, and memory will cling around it with sad and ten- 
der recollections. Oh ! what precious memories of brothers, 
friends and comrades who perished in battle or died from 
sickness come thronging up in mind. How vivid their 
images ! How our hearts long and faint for the warm hand- 
clasp as in days of yore ! But they are not. How presses 
upon my heart the memory of a brother, tenderly loved, the 
baby boy of the household, who was killed at Bentonville in 
the last charge of the last fight east of the Mississippi. His 
manly form, his precious remains were wrapped in a blanket 
and.buried on the battle-field with no requiem save the sough- 
ing of the winds through the tops of the pines overhead. This 
was the sad experience to thousands in the South during the 
war. We sorrow not as those who have no hope. We joy- 
fully cherish the hope of meeting them in the Great Reunion 
of the redeemed in that land surpassing fair — the land of 
God. 



294 Essays and Addresses. 

Veterans, the sands of life are rapidly running with you 
from the hour-glass of Time. The years of your sojourn 
upon earth will soon be told. Are you prepared for the 
solemn change and exit from time? God grant, that having 
enlisted as soldiers of Christ, " fought the good fight and 
kept the faith," when the end to each of you shall come, that 

" As you on your death couch shall lie, 
And as your senses slowly fading die ; 
Before you shall stand seraphs from the sky, 
To waft your souls to rosy morn on high." 



REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR-. 

In the epic story of the great Latin poet, when the Tyrian 
queen solicited ^neas to relate the events of the war, which 
resulted in the downfall of Troy, the Trojan hero would 
feign decline the mournful task. His mind recoiled from the 
review, even in memory, of the carnage of battles which were 
waged through the long period of ten years, and the final 
destruction of his country. So must be the retrospection of 
the " War of the States " to every surviving soldier, whether 
private or officer, who participated in the struggle, though he 
may bear in his body, as marks of honor, "many a seamy, 
scar" of battle and may have won military renown by his ex- 
ploits. The humane and the patriotic heart turns away with 
revolting feeling from the contemplation of that "bloodiest 
picture" in the book of American history. 

The historian, as with animated pen he writes of mighty 
battles fought and won, and tht poet, as he tells of the "pomp 
and circumstance of glorious war," may dazzle the imagina- 
tion with the charms and glory with which they deck " grim- 
visaged war," but these fade away when confronted with its 
stern realities. War is a sad reality, and not a gay pageant. 
It is so tragic, so full of human woe and suffering, of 
widow's groans and orphan's tears, of desolate homes, of the 
waste of human life in the flower of youth and the vigor of 
manhood, that it has been truly called the " scourge of God " 
for the wickedness of the nation. 

Such were the horrors of the battle-fields the loathsome 



Reminiscences of the War. 295 

scenes of the hospitals, the immense destruction of hviman 
life, the universal gloom, anxiety and distress that hung as 
-a heavy pall over the land during the late war, that those who 
experienced and witnessed the same, now with the light of 
reflection before them, wonder how the warring sections 
which breathed the same atmosphere of liberty, and were 
linked together in the bonds of a common brotherhood, 
should have been wrought up to such sectional or political 
frenzy as to plunge into sanguinary strife for four long 
years. 

In essaying to write up his personal reminiscence of the 
war, no one at this time can expect to deeply enlist public 
•attention, when so much has been written about it in every 
form and style during the last twenty-five years. History 
after history and sketch after sketch have been written, and 
by those whose civil and military positions afforded them the 

•opportunity of knowing and gathering up all facts and details 
necessary to the formation of authentic history. Yet so broad 
is the field of investigation which the subject opens, no one 
mind may have grasped every incident or related everything 

•of interest. The narrative that springs from personal expe- 
rience and observation may turn aside from the stately style 
and methodical arrangement of the historian, and present 
what was seen and heard in living panorama as it swept 
before the mind. There is no design nor will there be any 
effort on the part of the writer, to awaken unpleasant mem- 
ories and bitter feelings, or from the dead ashes of the past 

"to rekindle the flame of discord. All should rejoice in the 
tranquillity that enwraps our national life and let the past 

:issues of sectional strife and hatred rest 

Under the sod and under the dew — 
Under the roses with the Blue; 
Under the lilies with the Grey. 



296 Essays and Addresses. 



CHAPTER I. 

CAUSES OF THE WAR. 

" Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine, laeso, 
Quidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus 
Insignem, pietate populum, tot adire labores 
Impulerit." — Virgil. 

The causes of the war appropriately form the initial as welf 
as an important chapter in any historical account of it. They 
furnish the philosophy of events and shed light upon the- 
subject, though in a notice of them it may not be necessary to 
trace them in all their relations and ultimate bearings and 
their conspiration to produce that state of political feeling 
which led to the sad catastrophe. It is perplexing, strange, 
even now, and it will be a matter of profound inquiry tO' 
future generations, why the people of the United States, 
under the causes that existed, should engage in civil war and 
seek to disrupt that bond of union under which they had' 
become a great, prosperous and happy nation, and their terrir 
tory had grown wider and wider and had extended farther 
and farther, until it stretched from the Atlantic strand to the 
Pacific wave, in less than seven decades. Why was it the 
case ? Was it the decree of the Fates, according to the ancient 
doctrine of necessity? Or rather was it one of those myste- 
rious events in the evolutions of time, which the Supreme 
Ruler of the universe, in the administration of the affairs of 
the world, designed should further the advancement of the 
human race to a higher moral and social state? 

The ostensible cause of the war, as set forth in popular 
opinion, was the abolition of slavery .at the South. The South- 
ern people claimed it as their right to hold slaves under the 
original compact of the States, and none should dare to 
impede or molest them in the exercise of that right. There 
were those of the Northern people who, in their ardent love 
of liberty, desired that on American soil the last fetter that 
bound the free spirit of man should be thrown off. This 
question was th subject of zealous and long-continued debate 
in the popular convention that framed the Constitution. It 
was the source of national discord through all the antecedent 



Reminiscences of the War. 297 

}cars of the republic. It was the fruitful source of fierce 
debate in the halls of national legislation. It was quieted 
only to raise its Mokanna visage, whenever an occasion was 
presented. With each revolving year the infatuated zeal of 
the North and the determined opposition of the South 
increased. The election of Abraham Lincoln, as a sectional 
president, in the opinion of the South, justified the secession- 
of the slave-holding States from the Union. 

Such is a brief statement of the principal cause of the war. 
r. is not necessary to discuss its merits. Would either party 
have been so aggressive if they could have foreseen that it 
would kindle the flame of civil war? Would the South have 
consented to that holocaust of its noble sons, the flower of 
the land, for the maintenance of the institution of slavery? 
Would the North have considered its incalculable sacrifice 
ol blood and treasure worth the emancipation of Southern 
slaves? 

Though the existence of slavery at the South was the 
primary source of discord and ultimately of the war, yet 
there were other causes that served to instigate it. It is said 
b'v an English poet, 

"Lands intersected by a narrow frith 
Abhor each other. Mountains interposed, 
Make enemie;? of nations, who had else 
Like kindred drops been mingled into one." 

There were no natural barriers, as lines of national demar- 
cation, between the North and the South. They occupied 
one and the same territorial limits, and in race and name 
formed one common country. Their sires had gone together,. 
" shoulder to shoulder," through the revolutionary struggle,, 
and as their posterity they equally shared in the ancestral 
glories of their forefathers ; they held in equal veneration 
Mount Vernon, where reposed the ashes of the Father of his 
Country ; the same constitution spread over both the broad 
aegis of its protection ; the same proud ensign floated over 
both alike in war or enwrapped them with its folds in time of 
peace. After all there was lacking homogeneity in their social 
characteristics. There was no community of sentiment or 
feeling, or identity of manners and customs. 

The want of social affinity and the sectional prejudice and 



-298 Essays and Addresses. 

animosity engendered by political strife and- contention 
formed an impassable wall, and prevented that friendly inter- 
course and reciprocal appreciation of each other which other- 
wise would have been promoted. 

There was an apparent antagonism of industrial pursuits 
and interests. The North was a manufacturing, the South 
an agricultural people. Really, their industries were recip- 
rocal had it not been for the tariff laid on foreign goods to 
protect Northern manufactures. The South complained that 
this legislation was in reference to them partial and unjust. 

And to-day it is still an issue, the great political question 
before the people, involving the fasces of power. 

Notwithstanding the apparent contrariety of interest, yet 
all might have been harmonized, and the diversity of pursuits 
under wise legislation would have contributed to the wealth 
and prosperity of each section, and the country would have 
•continued to enjoy the blessings of peace. 

CHAPTER II. 

A IIAPPV PEOPLE. 

Glancing with telescopic eye over the past, the mind would 
linger awhile in silent contemplation of that state of pros- 
perity and happiness which the United States as a nation 
presented before the war came upon the land with its havoc 
and its desolation. No epoch in history is invested with the 
same interesting and attractive moral and social features. It 
may properly be called the Golden Age of the republic. A 
pure and exalted spirit of patriotism marked the national 
life. The people still cherished republican sim]:)licitv of man- 
ners. Private virtue and public integrity were esteemed and 
honored as the bright ornaments of character. Industry and 
thrift characterized the habits of the people. A virgin soil 
crowned the toils of the laborer with abundant harvests and 
plenty reigned throughout the land. The administration of 
the government was wise and economical, and no iron-clad 
system of taxation oppressed the people with financial bur- 
thens. 
. How happy were the people ! How politically blest were 



Reminiscences of the War. 299 

they ! They had in the Constitution the organic framework 
of the best government the world had ever known. It 
embraced all the excellences without the faults of the political 
fabrics of ancient Greece and Rome, those prototypes and 
eclectic models of republics through all ages. It afforded equal 
political rights, and security and protection of life and prop- 
erty to all classes of its citizens. All participated in its bless- 
ings, whether their homes were located among the hills of 
New England, arched by Southern skies, or dotted the 
prairies of the West. Even the slaves at the South in their 
iDondage experienced its benign influence in the provision 
made for their humane treatment and the protection of their 
lives and persons, and whether domiciliated on the rice-fields 
of Carolina, the cotton farms of Mississippi, or the sugar- 
cane plantations of Louisiana, with their happy disposition 
and wonted exemption from care, they cheered their toils 
Avith the wild melodies of uncultured song, and enlivened 
their holidays with rude festivities. 

Though the dew of youth was upon her brow, even at that 
period, the United States as a nation had achieved distinction 
i'l the arts of war and peace, and held an honorable rank 
among the foremost countries of the globe. It could boast 
•of the classic culture of Greece and the strength and majesty 
of Rome. The dignity and the wisdom of its legislative 
bodies, in which Clay, Webster and Calhoun, par uobile 
fratres, with a host of worthy compeers, had shone, had 
crowned American statesmanship with imperishable glory. 

A constellation of sovereign, independent States, each 
State revolved in harmony in its appointed sphere. Each 
■citizen felt a pride in his country's greatness and prosperity 
There might be strife among partv leaders, but the mass of 
the people were content with the government. There might 
lie political disturbances, and there might be talk of civil war, 
bul few minds really entertained such forebodings. It was 
an era of joyous prosperity and hope. In view of it and 
•enjoying its blessings well might each patriotic heart have 
■exclaimed, "Run on, ye golden cycles ! oh ! ye concordant 
Tates ! bid your spindles run on and lengthen into unmeas- 
in-ed duration the years of our happy country." 

But vain was the dream of tranquillity. Secession came ! 



300 Essays and Addresses. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE CAUSE OF SECESSION. 

At this day there are many thousands of persons surviv- 
ing, both at the North and South, who remember well the- 
prosperous condition of the country, as pictured in the last 
foregoing sketch. With what tender recollections do their 
minds dwell upon that happy period ! How they exulted in- 
the felicity of the country whilst patriotic hope spanned its- 
future prospects with the bow of promise. How few realized' 
that beneath this fair surface of things there slumbered the 
volcanic fires of civil revolution, which would suddenly burst 
forth, and like the lava's burning tide down the mountain's 
fertile slope, war would pass over the land, withering its- 
beauty and verdure ! 

It was the prevailing opinion that the issues of political 
and sectional strife between the North and the South would' 
be settled by the peaceful solution of compromise, as they 
had been in other days. There was such strong confidence- 
in the stability of the government, in the conservative power 
of the patriotism of the country, in the ancestral bonds of the 
past, in the wisdom of the national legislature, and in the 
gracious interposition of that God who had hitherto mani- 
festly presided over the destinies of the republic — that alF 
confidently expected there would be a pause, nor would; 
there be a resort to aggressive measures. 

As it has often been alleged that the South, without any 
overt aggression upon its political rights by the North, but 
for the sake of mere principle or the shadow of wrong, took 
the decisive step of secession which inaugurated the bloody 
drama of the war, in justice to the South it is proper to- 
enumerate some of the grievances of which it complained. It 
is a well-known fact that attacks were continually made upon 
th-e Southern people through the press of the North by the 
abolition party with the designs and purposes to abolish the 
institution of slavery. This served to stir up and keep alive 
sectional animosity. This spirit of mind was exasperated by 
the loss of both California and " bleeding Kansas " from the 
galaxy of the Southern States, and the exclusion of the South 



Reminiscences of the War. 301 

from any participation in that broad territory, won in con- 
quest, in a large measure, by Southern valor on the battle- 
plains of Mexico. The daring raid of John Brown upon Vir- 
ginia, indicating the extent to which fanaticism of the 
Northern abolitionists would proceed to carry out their pur- 
poses, still further inflamed the jealousy and indignation of 
tlie Southern mind. Lastly, the election of Lincoln as presi- 
dent, by a party a principle of whose political program was 
the extinction of slavery at the South. 

These were the main grievances set forth by the Southern 
■people. They conceived that their only hope of redress from 
political injustice was in seceding from the Union. They 
•considered they had a right to retire from that confederation, 
when their rights were invaded. They imagined they could 
peaceably untie the bonds of Union, nor thought that, like 
the Gordian knot of Alexander the Great, it could be sev- 
ered by the sword alone. They dreamed of peaceable seces- 
sion. How well did Webster with the prescience of the 
statesman picture the fatuity of such a supposition. Seces- 
sion was the policy. How was it accomplished? may be in- 
quired. 

CHAPTER IV. 

SECESSION. 

It may have been that the secession movement on the part 
of the Southern people was inevitable under the existing state 
of things, being one of those political ground-swells emanat- 
ing from the great popular heart which no human effort 
•could have stayed, but was like the ocean tide which rolled 
not back when Canute gave command. Many things doubt- 
less conspired to precipitate it. Among them was the defeat 
of the great Democratic party which had held the reins of 
government for twenty years. Its leaders could not well 
brook the loss of power, though "it was a split in the party" 
which gave the Republicans the victory. They could not 
regard with amicable feelings that party which had tri- 
umphed through their dissensions. 

Then the Democratic party was national and con- 
servative in its doctrines, and under its administration of tli? 
government, the Constitution had spread its shield of protec- 



302 Essays and Addresses. 

tion equally over the rights of all citizens. The Republicar* 
party was sectional in its locality and political declarations 
and principles. Its success served to affiliate the ranks of all 
parties South and array them in almost solid phalanx against 
a common political enemy. No doubt there was much misap- 
prehension on the part of the Southern people as to the dan- 
ger that threatened the institution of slavery from the admin- 
istration of the national government passing into the hands 
of the Republican party. It was a new untried party, and its 
oiigin and the spirit of some of its element was hostile to 
Southern interests. This alarmed their patriotic fears. They 
gave too willing an ear to their political Hotspurs who urged 
them to ignore the Union and form a new confederation of 
States under better auspices. 

The attitude and sentiments? of their representatives in 
Congress exercised a large influence upon the mind of the 
Southern people To whom could they more confidently look 
for counsel and guidance than to their national legislators, if 
their constitutional rights were in jeopardy by the election of 
Lincoln as president. They were the watchmen on the tower 
of Liberty. They were at the seat of government, the center 
of power and all political intelligence. The records of Con- 
gress show, at no period in its past history, did the South have 
a more brilliant representation in that body than at that time. 
In the array of talents by which it was represented might be 
found the fervid eloquence of Demosthenes, the polished ora- 
tory of Cicero, and the sagacious statesmanship of Pericles. 
To demonstrate this, it is only necessary to mention the 
names of Toombs, Floyd, Davis, Stephens, and a number of 
others whose legislative ability had crowned them with honor 
and would have given them a distinguished place in the 
Pantheon of American statesmen had not the failure of 
the cause in which they embarked for their beloved South 
obscured the luster of their early fame. It is needless now to 
say whether they were right or wrong. After-ages will write 
their epitaphs and condemn or approve. One, an hon- 
ored name, still lives and looms up from the shadows of 
the past in solitary greatness, like a stately monument mark- 
ing the buried hopes of the South. They either advocated 
secession or acquiesced in the popular movement. 



Reminiscences of the War. 303 



CHAPTER V. 

THE STRIFE OF TONGUES. 

Having breathed the air of poHtical freedom from their 
colonial infancy and having early learned to appreciate the 
blood-bought privileges transmitted from their revolutionary 
sires, the Southern people jealously guarded them, and were 
eager and impatient to resist and repel every real or fancied 
infringement upon their constitutional rights. Yet they did 
not resolve on the act of secession " as the horse rusheth into. 
battle." The measure was one of intense vital interest and 
involved momentous issues. The wisdom and expediency o'f 
it must be maturely considered and thoroughly discussed. In 
the exercise of their privileges as citizens of a free and con- 
stitutional republic they had been trained to consider and dis- 
cuss all questions having a bearing on the common weal. All 
were qualified for this duty from the wealthiest aristocrat ta 
the humblest yeoman in the land. 

The Halls of Congress were made the chosen arena of 
debate. There the lists were opened to the champions of 
each party to discuss the rights of secession. There 
might have been witnessed many a glorious tilt of 
puissant minds. Who can portray the mighty spectacle, or 
report the profoundly thrilling speeches made by the gifted 
orators both of the North and South? How the haughty 
threat, the proud defiance, the bitter taunt, the keen retort 
and pathetic appeals of patriot bosoms might be heard in the 
gushing momentum of their speeches. " How like the lute's 
soft tones amid the cymbal's clash might have been heard the 
voice of that son of the South whom both the North and 
the South have since consentingly crowned with the highest 
honors of patriotic virtue ! Its silvery tones could not calm 
the heaving waves of political passion. Who does not well 
remember the debate of Congress at that period? All eyes 
A\cre turned to Washington City. All minds watched the 
deliberations and actions of the legislative body of the nation 
at that crisis. The electric wires flashed over the country 
whatever was said or done. Sensational dispatches sent out 



304 Essays and Addresses. 

■kept the public mind in a tumult of anxiety. The throes of 
political revolution pulsated throughout the land. 

The press both North and South discussed the great 
question. Not always calmly and deliberately, but often 
with bitter invective and inflammatory appeals to sectional 
prejudice and feeling. By constitutional enactment it had 
teen made free. It was regarded as the faithful guardian 
of the liberties of the people, and should not be muzzled. It 
liad been the great educator of the people as to their political 
•duties and rights. Now it moved its hundred tongues and 
Briarean hands to promote the spirit of sectional animosity. 

" It, with the bitter, burninsc speech of tongue 
Inflamed the South with madden'd sense of wrong, 
And urged t'lc Nortli witli conscious miglit of force 
To press to bloodshed its fanatic course ; 
And between tliose wrought internecine strife, 
Who from same dug drew Freedom's breath of life, 
And same childhood of a glorious past 
Its golden links of Union strong had cast." 



CHAPTER VI. 

It is a reflection which should afford profound congratula- 
tion to every true, enlightened, patriotic American citizen, 
that the act of secession on the part of the Southern States 
from the Union, though it involved a disorganization of the 
government and finally resulted in war, was not inaugurated 
and characterized by those excesses of popular frenzy, that 
turbulence in the legislative council of the nation, and that 
exercise of military despotism by the dominant party which 
marked the revolutions in government recorded in the History 
of other countries. No political leader rose up in the halls 
of Congress, who, like Mirabeau in the States-General of 
France, sought to overthrow the established government, its 
institutions and its customs. There were none like Robes- 
pierre, who, having vanquished the rival party by means of 
the tribune and the mob, with cool malignity of purpose 
doomed the opposing leaders to the guillotine. Nor like the 
old Roman republic did the country present the spectacle of 
the Senate of the Nation trembling and powerless, while 



Reminiscences of the War. 305 

tmilitary chieftains like Pompey and Caesar at the head of 
armies were contending for the snprcmacy of power. 

There was another reniarkahle fact connected with the 
history of secession worthy of mention. Such was the pro- 
found respect and reverence on the part of the people for the 
reign of law and government, that the National Assembly 
licld its sessions undisturbed amidst the popular commotion. 
No Cromwell or Bonaparte with a body of soldiery entered 
its halls to interrupt its legislative functions or to disperse it. 
In the Capital City there was no vast mob seen traversing 
the streets and clamoring for blood as in Paris during the 
■days of the overthrow of the French monarchy. 

Each member of Congress from the Southern States 
peacefully withdrew and returned to his home and constitu- 
ents, when his State adopted an ordinance of secession. None 
went like Coriolanus and Catiline with rage pent up in their 
hearts and plotting to return with sword and tire to destroy 
the metropolis of the Nation. But they rather went with 
hearts bowed down with mournful presages of evil, and 
looked back not with a spirit of revenge; but with deep, 
"imspeakable grief that there should have come svicli a crisis 
in the history of the Republic as to sever their bonds of 
-attachment to the proud faliric of government around which ' 
<:lustered so many endearing ho]ies and associations. Well 
did they remember the grandeur and symmetry of its propor- 
■.tlons. Now, with the secession of States, 

Behold the Temple, that in j^randeur shone, 
Its pillars rem , its ])ristine beauty gone ; 
/ Tho' lit up with glory's lingering smile. 

It wears but semblance of its once proud pile. 

And the chief executive of the Nation, President Buch- 
anan, who was at the helm of government and to whom was 
•entrusted the welfare of the commonwealth — how did he act? 
He was apprised of the movement. He heard the threats 
-of secession. He saw the preparations made by the 
Southern States to withdraw from the Union. What 
did he do? What could he do? Did he act up to the 
iull measure of his official authority? Of all the public men 
■vvho were involved directly or indirectly in the drama of 
20 si 



■2o6 Essays and Addresses. 

secession, none deserves more sympathy than Buchanan, 
Who can explain the contingencies of his official situation? 
Who can doubt his integrity or patriotism? He was cer- 
tainly put to a fiery test. Should he have had the members 
arrested who uttered secession sentiments? Should he have 
had them tried and condemned to death or imprisonment as 
traitors? Should he have sent armed forces to the South to 
suppress the public meetings and to scatter the State conven- 
tions that met to pass ordinances of secession? The revolt 
of a remote and insignificant province against a mighty 
dominion may be easily suppressed. There was no such 
parallel in the case of the Southern States. They formed an 
integral part of a nation which in the extent of its territory 
and resources rivaled antique Rome when its proud arch of 
empire extended from the pillar of Hercules on the west ta 
the Euphrates on the east. 

Buchanan has passed away from time. Dc iiiortitis nihil 
nisi bo>itiiii. No soul was tried like his. No human power 
could have averted secession or war. He had faith that the 
North and the South would yield to reason, to interest, to the 
teachings of Christianity. Wreathe his memory with the 
laurels due to his name. 

CHArTER vn. 

CROSSING THE RUBICON. 

That there was a division of sentiment and opinion at 
the South in regard to the expediency and wisdom of seces- 
sion as a measure that would inevitably result in war 
was clearly manifest. This was fully evinced by the complex 
character of the different State conventions, their debates 
and proceedings. The ruling spirit and vote was in favor of 
St cession, and each ado])ted an ordinance to be referred or 
submitted to the people for ratification. This was never done, 
such was the hurry and press of events. What would have 
been the popular will expressed by the ballot-box cannot be 
definitely determined. 

The first State that passed the ordinance of secession was 
South Carolina. Quoting the language of one of her press, 
she declared herself " high and drv out of the Union." Hasty,. 



Reminiscences of the War. 307 

impetuous, and wrong she may have been, yet the impartial 
mind must achnire the gallant and patriotic spirit of her peo- 
ple. It had displayed itself during the struggle for independ- 
ence in 1776. No brighter record than hers appears upon the 
pages of the history of that period. The Palmetto, her 
emblem as a State, will vie in the luster of its historical asso- 
ciations with the thistle of Scotland, the lilies of France and 
the shamrock of Ireland. Cum aniinis opibusquc, is her 
motto. She at an early period, alone and single-handed, had 
resisted the Tarifif act during the administration of Jackson, 
and threatened secession. She was the Attica of the Ameri- 
can league of States. Other States, at various intervals, 
likewise adopted ordinances of secession. The news of the 
action of the State conventions was received with exultant 
shouts by those who favored secession. Others, who more 
deliberately pondered the consequences of the measure, 
prophesied it as the precursor of civil war. "Many a lusty 
youth, who shouts so loudly, will bite the dust before this is 
ended," said the gray-haired men. Some were so confidently 
persuaded of peaceable secession that they proposed to "drink 
every drop of blood that would be shed." The cold, phleg- 
matic, money-making Northerners would not meet the fiery, 
impetuous Southrons in battle. Some vaunting spirit like 
Burns's Scotch soldier, when warmed up with "John Barley- 
Corn," could kill " two Yankees at a blow." They had 
formed an estimate of the whole North from those who had 
come down South to peddle Davis Barber's clocks or as 
schoolmasters to enlighten the minds of Southern youth, and 
a " penny turn." 

The sequel of the act of secession is known. It was the 
passing of the fatal Rubicon. No pen may picture the shift- 
ing scenes and events which transpired before the conflict of 
arms began. The foregoing sketches afiford scarcely a 
glimpse of the mighty panorama, and are designed as an in- 
troduction to such reminiscences of the war as may linger 
in the mind of the writer. 



3o8 Essays and Addresses. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CONFEDERACY. 

Having- passed ordinances of secession, the seceding States 
took active and immediate steps to consummate their plan of 
separation from the Union and to form a Southern Confed- 
eracy. Delegates chosen by the State convention met at 
Montgomery, Alabama, on the 4th of February, 1861. Geor- 
gia, South Carolina, and the four gulf States — Mississippi, 
Alabama, Louisiana and Florida — were represented in the 
convention. A provisional constitution and government were 
adopted at first. Afterwards, a permanent Constitution. 

This Constitution, the organic framework of the new 
republic, differed not materially in its form and provisions 
from the original Federal compact, except in those features 
which were necessary to meet the exigencies in the political 
situation of the Southern States which had originated seces- 
sion from the Union. It did not take months of debate and 
negotiation to evolve it, as there were no contrarieties of 
interest to be harmonized by concessive legislation in order 
for the States to form a national league. It did not come 
forth from the convention, as fabled of Minerva from the 
liead of Jupiter, perfect and bearing the full impress of wis- 
dom. It indicates hurried and improvident legislation and 
statesmanship sagacious enough to perceive the evils that 
would environ the new government, but not the wisdom to 
apply the proper legislative expedients to meet them. 

The ship of State thus framed and built was launched 
forth, freighted with the political hopes of the South. Many 
thousands of hearts regarded it with deep solicitude. Many 
thousands of wishes and prayers were uttered for its prosper- 
ous voyage upon the seas of time. All would cast wreaths of 
flowers upon the turbid element upon which it was to sail as 
propitiative of favoring gales. They could foresee perils, 
like the tempestuous billows of the ocean, to encompass it. 
But whom shall the people call to the helm to guide and 
direct the affairs of the young republic ? 

To this perilous duty and task the popular voice called Jef- 
ferson Davis, whose military and civic talents gave him a 



Reminiscences of the War. 309 

(listing-iiished position among the leaders of Southern inde- 
pentlence. Responding to the call, he became the central 
figure in the gigantic struggle which, ensued, as a patriotic 
defender and finally as a martyr of the Southern cause. 

Having thus become a government, as it considered, de 
jure and dc facto, the newly-formed Confederacy seized upon 
tl:e forts, arsenals and other property belonging to the Fed- 
eral Government, which were in the bounds of its recognized 
territory. Commissioners were sent to Washington City to 
negotiate with the Federal authorities for the peaceable 
transfer of the forts and other property which the United 
States still held in possession, and the equitable adjustment 
of all mutual rights and obligations in which they had shared 
under the Union, as a common sisterhood of sovereign and 
itidependent States. The authorities of the new Confederacy 
were diligent and energetic in placing the country in an atti- 
tude of defense, if hostilities should occur. The issues of 
secession were doubtful. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE FATAL SHOT. 

Each and every event gave momentum to the iron wheels 
of destiny, as they bore the Southern States onward to the 
precipice of disunion. To stay their progress, in vain did 
patriotic minds look for some untoward event. The work of 
secession was so daring and rapid that it was accomplished 
Defore the act was fully realized. 

The Northern States had regarded the threat of seceding 
as an idle boast upon the part of the South. As those that 
dream, did they look upon the stirring scenes that were tak- 
ing place. No effort was made by the United States Govern- 
ment to arrest the movements in the South, or even to protect 
its property, save in the one instance, when President Buch- 
anan dispatched the Star of the West with supplies and rein- 
forcements for Fort Sumter. 

The eventful fourth of March comes, which inaugurates 
the administration of the government by the obnoxious 
Republican party. President Lincoln is installed in office. 
What will he do is the anxious inquiry of the whole country. 



3.IO Essays and Addresses. 

In his inaugural address, he declares that " he will enforce 
the laws, but will not interfere with the institution of slav- 
ery." 

However it may be viewed by the Southern mind, the 
attitude and decision of President Lincoln under the appall- 
ing" circumstances that surrounded him displayed heroic 
grandeur and moral sublimity of character. The public senti- 
ment of the Northern States was divided as to the course 
which should be pursued towards the South. Consternation 
sat upon every brow, and dread was in every heart. Well 
might the patriotic minds of the covmtry have exclaimed : 

Quern vocet Divum populus ruentis 
Imperi rebus? 

Lincoln came forth. Perhaps none other upon the roll of the 
^reat men wdio gathered around the republic at that hour 
would have stepped into the breach, and, imdismayed, have 
resolved upon the perilous task and responsibility which he 
assumed. A peculiar destiny seems to have marked and 
tiained him up for this crisis. The strong and solid attributes 
of mind which he derived from nature, developed and molded 
by the rigorous toil and training of his youthful life, had 
imparted to his character that moral force and inflexibility of 
purpose which would drive him on as the thunderbolt which 
rives alike the " unwedgeable oak as well as the tender myrtle 
tree." What luster of glory does his career shed upon the 
benignity of republican institutions, which open the way for 
obscure and untitled youth to rise to the heights of political 
distinction. How wonderful does it appear that he who 
had been a " rail-splitter " in his boyhood should have been 
elevated by his fellow-citizens to that exalted position in the 
government of a great nation, that upon his action and the 
fiat of his word depended the lives and fate of millions. 

Which was guilty of the overt act of hostility, the North 
or the South ? Which section should bear the moral obloquy, 
the heinous guilt of inaugurating a needless and gigantic 
war? Which will the tribunal of posterity condemn? The 
charge of having committed the first act of hostility is foisted 
upon the South. The seizure of the forts and arsenals belong- 
ing to the United States has been assumed bv Northern his- 



Praying for All in Authority. 311 

torians as a declaration of war. Yet, if the Southern States 
had irrevocably decided upon secession, there was no other 
-course left to pursue under the emergencies of the situation. 
Otherwise, it was retaining an enemy in the citadel which 
might at any time open the gates to hostile bands. It is well 
known what " a thorn in the side " of the South was Fort 
Pickens, at Pensacola, during the whole war. 

On the other hand, the Southern States maintain that the 
•official announcement of President Lincoln that he would 
relieve Fort Sumter whilst negotiations were pending for its 
•surrender, and the impression had been made on the minds 
•of the Southern committee that their application would be 
granted, was the commencement of hostilities. 

The Confederate authorities having been thus notified, on 
the 1 2th of April commenced the bombardment of Fort Sum- 
ter. "Then was fired the shot heard around the world." 



"PRAYING FOR ALL THAT ARE IN AUTHORITY? 

How sublime and beneficent is the prerogative of prayer 
"that the gospel bestows upon the Christian ! " Prayer ardent,'' 
says the poet, " opens heaven and lets down the consecrated 
glory upon man in audience with Deity." It allies him with 
God, brings the resources of Omnipotence to aid him in the 
duties and responsibilities of life, and renders him, though in 
his human nature feeble as a worm and the insect of a day, 
august and divine, " a distinguished link in being's endless 
-chain." 

How full, varied, precious and unstinted are the benefits 
"that the heaven-appointed privilege and duty of prayer pro- 
poses, in answer, to confer and secure, when duly exercised 
and performed. The scope of petition is broad as the circle 
•of human needs and wants. " Ask and ye shall receive " is 
the language of the Scriptures. The throne of grace being 
-established and the way of access to it for sinful men through 
the atonement and mediation of Christ being made, mankind 
arc exhorted " to come boldly to it, that they mav obtain 
mercy and obtain grace to help in time of need." Christ not 
only answers and accepts, but solicits the prayers of his 



312 Essays and Addresses. 

people, not reckoning them a trouble to him but an honor 
and delight. 

In the plenitude of divine grace, Christians can make 
prayers, supplications, intercessions, and giving of thanks,, 
not only for themselves, families and friends, " but for all 
men everywhere lifting up holy hands, without wrath and 
doubting." In view of their exalted privilege, they are 
instructed and enjoined by the Apostle Paul to pray " for 
knigs, and all that are in authority," that the blessings of 
quiet and peace, godliness and honesty, might be secured to- 
the government under which they lived. In the moral con- 
stitution of things there is to man not only the love of family 
and friends, but of home and country. The Scriptures- 
recognize the principle of patriotism as inherent in man's- 
nature and forming an important element in his social exist- 
ence. They assign to it that value and dignity, as to enjoin' 
upon Christians to invoke the blessings of heaven upon their 
land, and thus intertwine the love of country with the senti- 
ments of their religion and the sacred rites of devotion. The- 
special manner in which this is to be done is by praying for 
al'. that are in authority, as the government of a nation is the- 
source of blessing or of curse to the people, as the rulers may- 
be wise and good, or wicked and corrupt. 

The early Christians felt this law to be continually bind- 
ing, and, therefore, scrupulously prayed for all in authority, 
whether Pagan, Arian or Christian. The custom is men- 
tioned by many of the fathers ; is mentioned in the earlv 
liturgies ; and was referred to by the early apologists of 
Christianity as a proof of loyalty. The custom having been 
instituted, it has no doubt prevailed in all the churches in all 
countries wherever Christianity has planted itself. The staid' 
and beautiful observance stands incorjiorated in the liturgv of 
the Church of England. It found a place in the form and 
ritual of public worship at an early period. For twelve cen- 
turies or more from the altars of Christianitv of that land' 
have been ascending daily, prayers and intercessions for the- 
divine favor and blessing upon the country and its rulers. 
The visitor who may attend the Episcopal services in citv. 
town, or hamlet, besides the blessing in the invocation, will; 



Praying for All in Authority. 313 

hear sung at the close of service, from the beautiful anthem, 
" God save the Queen " : 

" Lord bless our native land ; 
May Heaven's protecting hand 

Still guard our shore ; 
May peace our powers extend, 
Foe be transformed to friend ; 
And may our powers depend 

On war no more." 

The Catholics sing it in Latin — " Domine, Salvam fac 
Reginam Nostram Victoriam." 

The practise of making prayer for the President and his 
Cabinet, and for the officials of the State, or for the chosen 
blessings of God to rest upon the country, has been but par- 
tially observed, and sometimes entirely neglected, by the 
ministers of the different denominations of Christians in the 
United States, in the stated pulpit-service of the Sabbath. As 
the masters of assemblies and the mouth of the congregation 
toward God, it is for them to follow and observe the benefi- 
cent form of petition as enjoined by the Apostle. There is 
no mode or process for setting forth the divine claims and 
principles of Christianity before the minds of the people for 
recognition more impressive and effective than for the min- 
isters of the gospel. Sabbath after Sabbath, in the holy invo- 
cations of the sanctuary, to lead their congregations in con- 
templation away from the din and strife of earth and in 
devout prayer at the invisible mercy-seat to implore heaven's 
benedictions upon their country and its rulers. 

Then, it may partly be attributed to the prevalence of the 
opinion, that under the reign of the gospel as a dispensation 
of grace, human responsibility is individual and that God 
no more smites the nations of the earth for their wickedness, 
nor blesses them for their righteousness. Such doctrine does 
not accord with the teachings of the Bible that assert the 
great and salutary truth that " the Lord reigneth," and as 
"King of nations," He rules in all places and over all the 
works of His dominion. 

In the ministrations of the pulpit, there seems to be a 
decline in the observance of the usage at the present time. 
This fact has prompted the writing of this article. As to 



314 Essays and Addresses. 

the causes that have operated to produce the neglect of the 
apostolic injunction to pray for those that are in authority 
forms an important subject of inquiry which may be vari- 
ously answered. In the case of some who serve at the altar, 
it may be that they regard the theme of petition as too high 
for their modest ability and for the range of thought of their 
congregations ; that it will do for big preachers on big oc- 
casions and for city and town preachers and their fashion- 
able audiences thus to soar in prayer. 

Again, the remissness observable in prayers, supplications, 
intercessions and giving of thanks for all that are in author- 
ity and for the country, may result from that fierce democracy 
of spirit which regards not the opinions of men and scorns 
the authority of Jehovah, that is so largely diffusive in the 
thoughts and habits of this American commonwealth with its 
vast heterogeneous population. In brief, all the causes may 
be summed up in the proposition, that they originate from 
the lack of sincere belief of the word of God by numbers of 
professed Christians, and from the spirit of atheism and infi- 
delity that pervades the land. "The Lord reigneth ; let the 
earth rejoice, and the multitude of isles be glad thereof." 



VERSE 



ROMANCE OF THE TIMES 
THE BIRCHEN SCEPTRE 



AND 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



INTRODUCTION. 



LITERARY CRITICISM FROM HORACE— "ARS 
POETICA." 

PARAPHRASE AND COMMENT. 

Unique, genial, delightful and melodious Horace ! Such 
strain of encomium does this poet of ancient Rome rC' 
ceive from those who have drunk deep of the Pierian 
stream of song that flows in his lyrics or caught the glow 
of wit in his satires. It is difficult to determine which to 
admire the most, the genius of the peot, the charming per- 
sonality of the man, or the delicate touches of philosophy 
that peek out here and there in his writings and are sweet 
and ''musical as Apollo's lute." To read him is to become 
enamored of him as a poet. Ovid, a Roman poet, contem- 
porary with him, in a poem says : 

" Et tenuit nostrpe numerosus Horatius aures ; 
Dum ferit Ansonia carmina culta lyra." 

(And melodious Horace charms our ears whilst he strikes 
the lyre to his polished songs.) 

No poet of ancient or modern times could so justly per- 
form the task which he assumes in his "Ars Poetica" of 
settinig forth the elements, precepts and principles of the 
art of poetry. He had the genius of song. As he says of 
himself in one of his odes, "Melpomene, that rulest the 
melody of the golden shell, looked upon him with a fa- 
voring eye at the hour of his nativity." Still more fanci- 
ful, when a child and wearied with play and oppressed with 
sleep he lay in the forests of his native Apulia, as, in prog- 
nostic token of his destiny as a poet, the doves covered 
him with leaves. 

The thorough and attentive training he had received in 
the languages and literature both of Rome and Greece en- 
dued him with literary supremacy and prepared him emi- 
■nently for the office of critic and expounder in the realm of 



3i8 Poems. 

poetical composition. This proficiency is exemplified in the 
fact that he says of himself that he was the first to have 
adapted the lyric verse to Italian measure, and lay the foun- 
dation of his fame and be pointed at as the minstrel of the 
Roman lyre. 

Boileau, the French scholar, who has the best art of 
poetry of modern times, boasts that his precepts are based 
upon those of Horace, and modestly says : "For me, who has 
been nourished in satire, once more to manage the trum- 
pet, or the lyre, you seek me yet in this glorious field ; you 
report to me those lessons which my Muse and Parnassus, 
when young, gathered from acquaintance of Horace." 

The principal laws which govern in poetical composition 
and which are so genially set forth in "Ars Poetica" are as 
applicable to-day as when written on waxen tablet with the 
stylus of the poet. The first one set forth is unity of de- 
sign in the poem to be written. This principle should 
be observed, as it secures the pleasing effect of harmony 
in the topic, diction and logical connection in all the parts. 
This should apply not only in the epic and drama, but is to 
be regarded in the small poem that it may be perfect as the 
rose or the star. As for instance Tom Moore's Irish Melo- 
dies. 

Then comes next the principle of rhythm, or the harmoni- 
ous flow of the vowel sounds. This was recognized in an- 
cient Greek and Latin poetry as a radical element and dis- 
tinguishino- feature of verse. Horace and Persius Flaccus 
both insist that poems must flow as softly in their measure 
as the finger-nail glides smoothly over the joints of polished 
marble. The spirit of rhythm must be in the soul of the 
poet, and so reign that, as at the touch of a magic wand,, 
the thoughts that lie in the mystic chambers of the mind, 
"linked in many a hidden chain," shall come forth and 
trip in measured round into the meter of the verse. The 
poet Browning says of himself, "day and night I worked 
my rhythmic thought." 

Then the poet touches lightly upon the rhyme, the asso- 
nance or the ending of the lines of verse with words of 
similar sound. This in the popular mind and in ordinary 
forms of poetry is regarded as an essential feature of all 



Introduction. 319 

poetry. With the Greeks and Romans it was of minor 
importance. In the history of Enghsh poetry it played an 
important part in the day of Pope and swayed the Hterary 
taste of that age. In the hands of that poet the art of 
versification attained its perfection. So perfect was Horace 
in rhythm and meter that a modern editor of his works, 
the classic Anthon, detects one solitary instance of defec- 
tive meter. Rhyme, without reason or with reason, does 
not always constitute poetry. It is not a mere ornament 
of versification, but when used with proper skill and taste, 
it adds to the expression of the thought and the melody of 
the verse. It may be the only claim that many of the 
literary compositions of the day have to the name of poetry. 
Tt is esteemed a shackle upon tru? poetical genius, unless as 
in the case of Byron in "Don Juan" or "Childe Harold,'' he 
rises above artificial restraints and mannerism. 

The poet urges upon those who enter the field of au- 
thorship to select a subject adapted to their intellectual ca- 
pacity, and enforces it with the weighty comment that those 
who do this will secure eloquence of expression and lu- 
cid arrangement. The chief excellence of method will en- 
able him to say just those things he ought, and to put off 
those that should be l6ft unsaid. He satirizes Lucilius, a 
contemporary poet, for his muddy verse, as there was 
something in his verse that the reader wanted to throw 
away. 

The poet insists upon great care and nice distinctio:\ 
in the selection of words. There must be grace and beauty 
of diction. This is an essential characteristic of poetical 
composition. The Muse of Song, according to myth of 
classical antiquity, is of divine origin and her language is of 
celestial strain. Words are figuratively called the blos- 
soms of the lips, and there may be that selection and ar- 
rangement of them in a sentence in the expression of 
thought, as in the flowers of spring in a bouquet, to secure 
grace and harm.ony of colors. 

There is such a thing as word-painting in literature, 
that is, the art of selecting and using words as representa- 
tive of ideas, that will present pictures of things signified. 
This ofives to Homer's Iliad its immortal bloom and fresh- 



320 Poems. 

ness. His words are picturesque, and even so far does he 
go in the selection of them that he makes the pronuncia- 
tion of a word an echo to the sense, as in the epithet 
phloisboio, the lashing of the billows of the ocean upon the 
shore. The song of the brook by Tennyson is a remark- 
able exemplification of word-painting. He selects the word 
that portrays each change of motion in the waters of the 
brook in its onward flow. It "makes a sudden sally and 
■sparkles out among the fern, bickers down the valley, slips 
"between the ridges, chatters over stony ways, bubbles into 
■eddying bays, babbles on the pebbles, steals by lawns, slides 
by hazel covers and makes the netted sunbeam dance." 
Thus flows the brook until it joins the river. 

In his criticism Horace considers due regard must be 
given to choice of subjects in writing poetry. Everything, 
says a modern rhetorician, upon this point has its poetic 
side. There is spread out before the eye an endless num- 
"ber and variety of topics in the great volume of nature, 
and these are ever new and perennial to the successive gen- 
erations of men. The animated spectacle of Spring with 
its flowers, its symphonies of birds, its hum pf busy life, 
its Favonian breezes and cerulean depths of sky, or of Au- 
tumn with its golden sunlight, crude colors and barbaric 
pomp of purple, crimson and gold, delight the mind as 
much as when they were sung by Thomson, the English 
poet, in voluptuous strain. The great theme of the poets 
of all ages has been that of love. It is the divine passion 
that thrills the soul with rapture, awakens all that is pure 
and beautiful in man, and fills earth and heaven with joy 
and gladness. It was sung by Solomon in the symbolic 
beauty and richness of oriental speech ; by Anacreon, the 
Greek poet, in m.elting accents on the Teian lyre, and in its 
full-orbed grandeur and glory by Milton in his matchless 
epics of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. It employs 
the tongues of the redeemed and angels' harps of gold, and 
when they have reached their highest note they will not 
have sung all its praises. 

The poet gives a wise precept to those who write poetry 
and are ambitious of authorship. He advises them not to 
assume the office of poet rashly, nor to foist their produc- 



Introduction. 321 

-tions too hastily upon the reading pubHc. Minerva, the 
patroness of literature, being unwilling, they can accomplish 
nothing. Not every mind is a warbler in the realm of 
song. If they have ever written anything they desire to 
descend to posterity let them keep it ("nonum prematur 
in annum membranis intus positis") "pressed within the 
folds of a sheepskin for nine years." "Delere licebit quod 
■edideris ; nescit vox missa reverti." TMt will be allowable 
for you to destroy that w..ich you have not published ; a 
word once sent forth knows not the way of return.") 

The author of this volume of verse has followed in some 
measure the precept of the critic. Many of the pieces 
were written in the long, long ago, and have been kept 
folded in the leaves of memory. They may be like the 
"flowers gathered by the schoolboy or schoolgirl, pressed 
within the leaves of a book, dead and withered. He trusts 
that they are not altogether without the bloom and fra- 
grance of song, and that the readers of his poems will find 
-delight in them, although they may not afford the full hive 
•of honeyed sweets that Horace stored in the cells of Lis lyric 
Poesy. 



tn si 



322 Poems. 

why should i write? 

\ Part I. — Inquiry. 

Why either in prose or verse indite 
The teeming fancies of the brain, 

When it may be but to re-write 
What has been said in better strain? 

The pen, in its excursive range. 
Has touched on all the mind may scan 

Of things sublime, or new, or strange, 
The vaulted sky may circling span. 

It has in glowing diction wrought 

The fancies wild, grotesque or gay. 

That in realm of ideal thought 
In airy beauty, sportive play. 

It has with Briarean hand 
Recorded on historic page 

The deeds of man in ev'ry land, 
As ihey extend from age to age. 

; ^ Long since did old Greek Homer tell 

I Of feats of arms on Trojan plain, 

In epic of majestic swell 

Like billows of the ^Egean main. 

Mantua's bard, on waxen reeds. 

Has piped of flocks and grassy plains, 
Of purling streams and verdant meads, 

Of loves and sports of rural swains. 

Milton in symphonies divine 

Has sung of Eden's lost estate ; 

Of glories that celestial shine 

For man redeemed from sin's dark fate. 

Has not Thomson with subtle art 
Described the seasons as they roll ; — 

The varied charms which they impart, 
As they advance from pole to pole? 

Who may with truer skill portray 
; The scene of joyous carnival, 

When vernal suns with genial ray 

Wake earth from winter's icv thrall? 



Poems. 323 

Who may paint with as florid brush 

The dazzling pomp of summertime, 
The mellow tints that autumn flush, 

Or winter's cheerless gloom and rime ? 

The beauties of nalnre's domains 

Have been the poet's favored themes; 
The source to them of pleasing strains. 

And inspiration of their dreams. 

They have portrayed her charms as seen 

In starlit eve or golden morn, 
In flowers that bedeck each scene. 

In stars heaven's blue arch adorn. 

Why then write, may one well exclaim, 
When time-worn has become each theme, 

When so few mav win lettered fame. 
And realize ambition's dream. 



WHY I SHOULD WRITE. 
Part H. — Answer. 

The wit and genius of the past 

In countless volumes treasured lie, 

In ev'ry mold of language cast. 

And speaking truths that can not die. 

Here toiling mind in labor sweet 
May daily gather lore profound. 

Until life's weary wheels complete 
Their octogenarian round. 

Why then the field of thought explore 
And its truths in new forms repeat? 

Why seek to add to time's full store 
Of ideas, long since replete? 

The miracle of life renewed 

In nature's blooming world is taught; 
In all objects with life imbued, 

A periodic change is wrought. 

From the decay of winter's zone 
The flowers of springtime appear ; 

From fallow fields with same seed sown, 
The new corn comes, from year to year. 

Shakespeare, in art without a peer, 
Long since exhausted ev'ry age. 



334 Poems. 

And destinies of either sphere, 
In scenic life upon the stage ; 

Yet others, with dramatic art. 

May life unfold in mimic show ; 

Instruct the mind and teach the heart 
To burn with virtue's holy glow. 

Pope, with mind's telescopic eye, 
Has sought the universe to scan, 

And ways of God to justify 
In sublunary state of man ; 

Yet other minds, on bold wing sped, 
- May o'er this field expatiate, 

And gather light which time has shed 
Upon the scene of human fate. 

Let all who feel inspiring glow. 

Write their thoughts in prose or rhyme-, 

Their labor is not lost who sow 

Truth's bright germs in the soil of time. 

Though the effusions of the pen. 
As they on printed page appear. 

Win not the passing gaze of men, 
Yet noble is the author's sphere. 



*'LOOK NOT MOURNFULLY INTO THE PAST." 

The sweet joys, once cherished, and deemed would last. 

The bright hopes that like stars have shone and set, 
Will oft with fond remembrance to the past 

Woo the heart and awake to sad regret. 
The past may the vernal hopes of life enshrine, 

Wither'd joys, like shatter'd pearls, deck its brow 
Yet over it the spirit should not ever repine, 

And at its shrine in ceaseless sorrow bow. 

When life's golden cycle has almost sped. 

When Hope's bright dreams are lost in heaveu- 
And all of beauty and glory have fled. 

Then may tears e'er to the past be given. 
But when life is in its glowing morn. 

And Hope's bright pictures are still fresh and fair, 
When pleasures like flowers each scene adorn, 

One great grief should not the heart fore'er sear. 

Love of tenderest tie can not demand 

The cypress wreath the brow should e'er entwine, 



Poems. 325 

Or Niobe-like. wrapped in grief, we should stand 

In lonely vigil at Memory's shrine. 
Its memory we may fondly cherish 

With a devotion time can not efface, I 

But affection's flower should not perish, ' 

And the heart become a cheerless waste. 

Flowers in tender beauty may spring again 

Where the lava has rolled its burning tide ; 
The lute whose chords in silence long have lain 

May echo again to the minstrel's pride ; 
The affections which have been scathed and chilled 

Like those flowers may sweetly bloom again. 
The heart whose silver notes sorrow has stilled, 

Like the lute may vibrate with joy again. 

Like the star that glows with chasten'd beam 

And gilds with beauty the hours of even, 
The Love that's blighted still may quenchless gleam 

From the soft depths of Memory's heaven. 
Thus in unison sweet, like the star of morn 

Upon the dawning east, Love too may rise, 
And with roseate light brightly adorn 

Life's opening scenes — its orient skies. 



WHAT FLOWERS SHOULD DECORATE THE GRAVE OF 
THE CHRISTIAN? 

Plant ye the rose that blooms serenely fair, 
And with rich perfume scents the vernal air, 
As token of love for departed one, 
Where lies the Christian — but not this alone. 
Its fragile beauty will fade like a dream, 
Ere vesper gilds the west with silver beam. 

Plant there the violet that urns the dew 
In fairy cups rich with heaven's own hue, 
And freights the passing wind with odor sweet. 
But not this alone — though a tribute meet 
It may be, and betoken modest worth ;—- 
It fades with the season that gives it birth. 

Plant the willow with flexile boughs that wave 
And bend as weeping mourners o'er the grave. 
Expressive of grief in its deepest tone, 
Where lies the Christian — but not this alone; 
For there's hope for him who in Jesus dies, 
And Faith whispers reunion in the skies. 



326 Poems. 

Plant these with all that grow in dell or plot. 
But not these alone on the sacred spot. 
Though tokens of grief and tributes of love, 
They fade and wither as tlije seasons move, 
An emblem not Faith's mystic dream sublime, 
Of life again in Heaven's blissful clime, 

Plant there the cedar with verdurous spire, 

Unscathed by winter's cold or summer's fire. 

As meet type of the soul that can not die. 

But in Heaven's clime, beneath a storniless sky, 

Shall flower afresh like Aaron's rod 

That budded and blossomed in sight of God." 



LINES OF CONDOLENCE TO F. M. R. 
On the Death of His Beloved Companion. 

As dew falls upon the vernal flower, 

As melting sounds upon the dreaming ear, 
Would I sympathy in thy bosom pour 

And to thy anguished heart sweet solace bear. 
To deck the urn of her you loved so well, 

I would, too, a beautiful chaplet twine; — 
In sweet elegy her fond praises tell. 

And her virtues in fadeless bloom enshrine. 

Cleft from thy fond side is the gentle vine 

Which around thee its graceful tendrils wreathed; 
Nipt is the flower which did softly twine 

And over thy home its sweet fragrance breathed; 
Quenched the star that gladdened with its light. 

And made happy and joyous thy hearth-stone; 
Death has brought to thee a bitter blight. 

With holy resignation, oh ! be it borne. 

Let not grief heave thy breast with ceaseless swell 

Nor with tears incessant bedew thy cheek. 
Who of this bereavement may say or tell? 

But in it her good did Providence seek. 
Life, with her may liave run a golden round. 

Yet soon its orb may have ceased to roll in light;— 
Her past may have been with flowers crowned, 

Yet her future been doomed to bitter blight. 

The star whose departed light you now mourn 
Will rise to slune in a happier sphere ; 

The Flower which Death from you has torn 
Will rebloom in heaven, and ever there. 



Poems. 327 



May this inspire you in Christian life to toil, 
That the reward may to you be given. 

Whene'er you throw aside this "mortal coil," 
Of bright reunion with her in heaven. 



SONNETS TO SHAKESPEARE. 



Shakespeare ! thine were the lines whose music upon 

My heart and fancy in sweet boyhood won. 

From the blush of morn to twilight's calm hour 

Would I unceasing labor, and when came night 

The charm of thy verse with magic power 

Would dispel all weariness. Till midnight 

O'er it I would pour, lighted by the blaze 

Of a dimly-burning fire ; and would seek 

Some woodland shade, when the toils of the week 

Were o'er, where sheltered from the fervid rays 

Of summer suns I thus would while away 

The fleeting moments of the holiday 

From allotted hours of toil I would win. 

II. 

Oh ! thine was the enchanter's spell that then 
In golden dreams my boyhood held entranced, 
Its .sorrows soothed, its brightest ioys enhanced. 
As the sun calls for the A'crnal flowers, 
Tints its petals and fills them with perfume, 
Thy verse with as sweet and kindly power 
My bud of mind awakened into bloom. 
The beauty and incense of its bright urn 
The flower fair "dedicates to the sun" ; 
Thus alike tO; honor the name of one 
Whom so much I owe in grateful return, 
Sweet from its aroma of Poesy, 
My mind would bring; unheeded they may be 
Amid the praises and tributes of song 
"Brought by a thousand minds, a gifted throng. 



THE VISIONS OF SLEEP. 

How mysterious the visions that sweep 

Over the soul when from their active play 

The limbs lie fettered in the bonds of sleep, 
And reason ceases its scepter to sway! 

In mock illusion through the mind they go; 

With scenes of pain and woe our hearts they rend; 



328 Poems. 

Now with sweet emotions our bosoms glow, 
As hues of joy they to the picture lend. 

Oft with the shadows of night dreams depart, 
Broken their spell and dissolved their power; 

But some to the soul an impress impart 

' That haunts, when night has fled, the waking hour^ 

Thus was a dream I had of late in sleep. 
That to my mind a loved image brought. 

To greet it with joy did my bosom leap. 

Yet the scene with deep sadness still was fraught. 

Oh ! she was not as in my boyhood's hour 

I looked on her with a child's tender love. 
The voice that did so oft with magic power 

Soothe my spirit and wayward nature move, 
Had lost its music; mournful was its note 

As the wail that from the windharp is breathed 
When through its chords the fitful breezes float, 

And pallid the lips that smiles ever wreathed. 

Dimm'd was the luster that did in her eyes e'er shine- 
Ghastly with decay were the lips and the cheek. 

That oft were pressed in tenderness to mine. 
Thus appeared one that was beautiful and meek, 

One whom death from my heart had torn away. 
I knew her body was borne to the tomb 

And midst chill shadows would fall to decay. 
Whilst the worm would batten upon its bloom. 

Yet as my fancy would pierce the dark gloom 

Which marks the mystic bound of earth and time;. 
It would paint for her pure spirit a home — 

A blissful heaven — a celestial clime. 
Mine was the creed so beautiful and bright, 

Which deemed the portals of the grave the bound 
Where the soul would leap into life and light, 

To run in ceaseless cycle a joyous round- 
How delightful to me did this creed seem, 

When sleej) had fled, and its vision of gloom. 
And how somber were the tenets that deem 

That our life reaches its goal in the tomb! 
Let me e'er cherish those views that assign 

To our being a sphere where it may swell 
Into a life deeper, fuller and divine, 

And the good and the pure with God e'er dwell- 



Poems. 329 

thanatokallia. 

Our Evie. 

I. 

Fair as a rosebud in its chrism of dew, 

In our home-plot tenderly she grew. 

For three short years on dial woven of How rs 

Time for her had counted the Heeting hours. 

Day by day it was our delight to trace 

In 'her unfold each charm of infant grace. 

Around her, as the tendrils of the vine, 

Did our affections caressingly entwine, 

And she became to us our Evie dear, 

The sunbeam of our household sphere. 

II. 

In time's rapid flight many years had sped 
Since love in nuptial tie our hearts had wed; 
O'er our home many years had brightly Howa 
With no sorrow to darken our hearth-stone. 
Like flowerets of spring an offspring dear 
Had sprung up our hearts to rejoice and cheer. 
We had seen them, a merry-hearted band, 
Into the bloom of youthful life expand. 
Death we had seen enter in to destroy 
The bliss of many scenes of earthly joy, 
But. through divine benison, he had spared 
The home our hymeneal love had reared. 

III. 

We knew that since lost Eden's tragic scene 
Capricious man's earthly lot had e'er been- 
Fair as earth might be, there was not a spot 
Where suffering and sorrow entered not- 
^e V^new— when night shone without a cloud 
The frost wove for plants their crystal shroud; 
That oft from the sea bathed in tranquil light 
Arose the dark-browed storm in sullen might; 
Thus often amid prosperiti''s glow 
Came frowning fate to deal destructive blow. 
We could not in our wildest fancy deem 
Time with us would flow in waveless stream, 
With no evil to rise, as baleful star 
Our life of tranquillity to mar. 



330 Poems. 

IV. 

Like scudding shadows cast upon the scene 
By the floating clouds that sail the blue serene. 
And veil awhile the sun's golden light 
Would dim forebodings of coming blight 
Flit o'er our souls. Like Job we troubled were, 
And felt afraid in our cloudless career. 
What sad event would come our hearts to try- 
It was not within our ken to descry. 
It came — in the form which mortals dread; — 
It came as Death with his echoless tread, 
Our sunny home with cypress to entwine^ 
To the deep, dark grave our Evie to consign. 

V. 

In Death's garments of purity arrayed 
She seemed m gentle slumber to be laid. 
In vain we might seek then to realize 
Death's signet had forever sealed her eyes, 
That no more those tender orbs of blue, 
Sweet to us as violets bathed in dew. 
Would open, and with beaming looks of love 
Our hearts with rapturous emotion move ; 
That those hands folded now in placid rest 
And waxen stillness on her pulseless breast. 
Would no more our passing footsteps arrest; 
That those lips, fore'er in silence compressed. 
Would no more syllable parental names 
In the prattling dialect childhood frames. 

VI. 

With dolor which parents alone can know 
When first falls Death's bereaving stroke of woe. 
With mournful steps to the grave we convey'd. 
In its precincts her body fore'er laid. 
Until life's sunset close our hearts will cling , 
To her in memory, as a holy thing. 
Oft to our fancy in its dreaming mood, 
Does her voice break the dismal solitude, 
And prismed is her image on the air 
And her beloved form fills the wonted chair. 
We mav desire once more to view her face 
And fold her in one long, one warm embrace ; 
We would not her recall to life again. 
Had we the fabled skill' of Orphean strain 
To break the spell of Fate's dark decree, 
Though as beloved as lost EuryJice. 



PORMS. 331 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 
Ax Ode. 

O joyous day! the golden band 
Of the reAolving years of time ! 

Well may earth to its fairest land, 
Greet thy return with merry chime ! 

Sweetly dost thou again repeat 

The story of the Heav'n-born King; 

Who, sprung of Judah's royal line, 
Did to the race "salvation bring." 

Not now, in lowly manger laid, 

Enwrapt in swaddling-bands He lies ; 

The work of man's redemption wrought, 
He sits enthroned above the skies. 

Not now, star-led, the wise men come 
To cast their tributes at His feet ; 

Adoring throngs before Him bow, 
In hymns of joy His praise repeat. 

Not now, angelic hosts appear 

Beneath the starry arch of night. 

To shepherds of Judea's hills 

Proclaim his advent with delight. 

But now, through each successive age, 
The tidings of angelic strain 

As caught by other lips is spread 
To farthest nook of earth's domain. 

Not now. with thorn-encircled brow 
Does He our deep compassion move ; 

But crowned with heavenly diadem 
He reigns supreme as God of Love. 

O Saviour Divine! Prince of Peace! 

Shine forth amid cherubim bright. 
Into the darken'd homes of men. 

And cheer with joy's serenest lighi. 



2,2,2 roEMS. 



AN ELEGY IN MEMORY OF WILLIE OLIVER, HENRY 
SMITH, OSCAR TAYLOR AND CHARLIE WOOD, 

Children Recently Buried i.si the Linden Graveyard. 

They were but budding gems on life's frail stalk, 
Brushed by Death as on noiseless wings he sped, 

Like roses that ere their petals have blown 
At touch of Ice King fall withered and dead. 

Should cherub innocence unheeded sink 
Beneath the grave's deep, oblivious calm? 

Shall the Muse of Song, with her spices sweet, 
The names of laureled greatness alone embalm?' 

Why may not love cull from Parnassian height 
The flowers of song that immortal bloom, 

And wreathe them in a chaplet fair and bright 
As homage meet to childhood's sacred tbmb? 

These babes were tiny things in life's broad county 

A thousand such may die each hour that comes ; 
They wrapped in mortal frames the spark divine. 

And were the light of loving hearts and homes- 
No more maternal love will them embrace. 

Receive with fond pressure the sweet caress, 
Drink in with eager joy each prattling word, 

And on their lips the warm kiss impress. 

Fond parents may not with sad anguish mourn 
For the dear ones, doomed to untimely grave; 

Love may have decreed the afflictive stroke, 
Them from evil to come perchance to save. 

None as the old inspired Chaldean seer 

May discern from the book of future fate, 

WHiether jov or grief coming years will bring: — 
What destiny shall mark their earthly state. 

Their little forms will not forever lie 

In the chambers of the dead, still and lone; 
Gethsemane's sad weeper conquered death, 

And from earth's dark crypts rolled away the stone- 
By Death's rude hand the precious buds 

Were gathered for the Paradise above ; 
And will there in amaranthine freshness blnor. 

Jnder the tender care of Omniscient love- 



Poems. 333 



LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, 

A few fleeting years fade from heart and mind 
The vows which lovers have fondly plighted; 

The sweet dreams which life's vernal years entwined 
Soon cease to thrill the hearts they once delighted. 

Yea, as that pale flower which sheds and renews, 
Each circling month, its fast-fleeting blossom, 

Our hearts as quicklv form and early lose 
Feelings cherished in the inmost bosom. 

May J, who only as a friend can claim, 
Ask thon'lt not forget — but remember me ; 

In memory's vigils recall my name ; 

This earnest request I would make of thee. 



THE DEAD CANARY 



Thou tiny minstrel of the warbling throng. 
In plumage bright of glossy green and gold, 
Thou wast a thing of beauty to behold. 
And cheery were thy gushing notes of song. 

The fatal shaft of death was quickly sped. 

And thou, gay warbler, fell among the slain ; 

In solemn silence hushed is thy glad strain; 
On floor of cage thou liest still and dead. 

The round of thy brief years of song is o'er; 

Was it full of beauty, a joyous one? 

From grassy nest at morn, to greet the sun, 
On buoyant wing with lark thou didst not soar; 

Nor from the limb of apple-tree in bloom 

Didst sing with mocking-bird, that all day long 
Doth revel in the opulence of song. 

Lone Sybarite, mid blossoms and perfume. 

Immured in cage that hung upon the wall. 
And left with gentle mate to sport at ease, 
In variant mood, as thee it might please. 

With trills of song to fill chamber and hall. 

Is it, that all that life should be to thee — 
Thy brief career in fleeting bound of time? 



334 Poems. 

Or dost thou pass into another clime 
To an' immortal life of melody? 

Dear Birdie, we bid thee a brief goodnight ; 
If there is a land beautiful and fair. 
To which the souls of good birdies repair, 

Be thine that home of endless joy and light. 



AN EPITHALAMIUM. 
To Mrs. Mary Greene Wilson. 

It was a pleasing myth of olden time 

As told in legend of the Wishing Gate, 
That those who there breathed their desires in rhyme 

Would realize them in their book of fate. 
At the portals of song would Love express, 

In the sweetest numbers the Muse can indite. 
The fondest wishes for thy happiness. 

All radiant with hope's prophetic light. 

As at hymeneal shrine thou didst stand, 

In the charm of beauteous womanhood. 
Attired as virgin of the vestal "band ; 

I., thought and grace pure as the frost that stood 
In curdled beauty on Diana"'s fane. 

What heart did not wish the sorrows that rise 
Might come on thee as fall in silver rain, 

To bless the earth, the clouds of April skies? 

Thou now art wedded. An event that bears 

In its grasp an increase of joy or woe. 
And gives each after scene the hues it wears. 

Now mingles its tide with thy life's quiet flow. 
With saddened spirit, thou must bid adieu 

To the loved home of thy childhood and youth, 
Where as the \'iolet, softly you grew 

In the bright mold of love, beauty and truth. 

Thou must. leave those who nursed thy tender bloom, 

And shielded thee from each envious blight ; 
The brothers whose mirth chased away thy gloom, 

The parents who cherished thee with delight; 
Their sunny smiles, loving words, counsels sweet, 

And greetings — to all thou must bid farewell, 
To another home turn thitherward thy feet, 

Amid new scenes, with other friends to dwell. 



Poems. 335 

Let not frrief heave thy breast with ceaseless swell 

And with incessant tears bedew they cheek; 
Nor anxious on the future brooding dwell. 

Tliy destined career to know, vainly seek. 
Thou hast one in whom thou mayst confide; 

On whose bosom with tru.^t thou mayst repose. 
He will be to thee a true shield and guide, 

The willing sharer of life's joys and woes. 

In thine abode an altar and a shrine 

To Love. Religion, as Lares, erect; 
On them libations pour and garlands twine, 

The circle of its bliss they will protect. 
Then will peace and happiness, as the vine 

With its leaves thy dwelling overshadow. 
And their roseate wreaths, tliere trailing twine, 

And thy home a mimic Eden will glow. 



ADDRESS OF ST. VALENTINE. 
To THE Young Men ok Linden. 

Now soon the year will bring the time, 
When happy birdies pair and mate. 

And youths and maidens should in rhyme. 
The feelings of their hearts relate. 

Come then, ye votaries of love. 

Choose for that tiny a YaJentine; 
The passions which your bosoms move 

On snowy page in verse enshrine. 

Let F— r as old "Bach" cease to pine 
And dream of Hymen's blissful state; 

And choose for life a Valentine 

To cheer with smiles his lonely fate. 

Let H— r choose a Valentine 

Nor think his day of grace is past; 

There are those that in beauty shine 
Nor are so coy, as was the laM. 

Let M— s, so gallant and gay. 

As blithely with pen as with tongue, 
To some fair one sweet homage pay. 

But choose not one that is too youmj. 

Let each indite a billet-dou.x; 

On scroll from pictured ttore of mine. 
Adorned with Cupid and his bow. 

And wreaths in which sweet roses twine, 



33^ Poems. 

Let H — s with heart of tender stuff, 
Who falls in love with each new face, 

Learn one Valentine is enough, 

And fix his heart in but one place. 

Let W. S — r from despair awake, 
Nor think his chance is so forlorn, 

Since with all the pains he may take, 
But faint mustache his lip adorn. 

Will not H — n due homage yield, 

And choose fair one suited to his mind — 

For toils and strifes of legal field, 
In wedded state, a solace find? 

Let S — y seek to twine his brow 
With wedlock's crown of glory; 

If he remains as he is now. 
Time will make him a sad story. 

Let T — d now inscribe with pen, 

Verdict versus a single state ; 
And follow the suit of wise men, 

And take unto himself a mate. 



I THINK OF THEE. 
The Soldier to His Wife 
(Scnti)iiciit.) 

At morn, when awaked from slumbers sweet. 

By the jarring drum's reveille beat. 

And the camp's blithe scenes my vision greet. 

I think of thee. 

When in the marshalled ranks arrayed, 
With musket armed and glittering blade, 
I move to the drum with measured tread, 

I think of thee. 

When sheltered from the sun's noontide glow 
Shining upon the parched plains below, 
In my tent reclined upon straw-couch low, 

I think of thee. 

Oh ! then that thou wert near me to beguile 
The weary hours with thy joyous smile, 
And sweet assurance receive the while 

That I love thee- 



Poems. •237 

At twilight's calm hour of thought and rest, 
When Vesper' gleams from the glowing west. 
And from my tent-door seen its silver crest, 

I think of thee. 
When looking up to heaven's blue dome, 
I trace the stars that gild my Southern home, 
And o'er the mind bright images come, 

I think of thee. 
When hushed the tattoo's noisy peals, 
And o'er the camp deep silence steals, 
And mine eyes sleep's soft signet seals, 

I dream of thee. 
When wrapt in sleep's bright fantasy 
In thy sweet presence I seem to be, 
And my heart thrills with ecstasy 

As I dream of thee. 

At morn, noon, eve, when my thoughts arise 
In prayer to the Ruler of the skies 
And faith kindles warm the sacrifice — 

I think of thee. 

For thee I invoke the benison. 
That angel-bands thy steps environ, 
And on thee rest the dews of Zion ; 

Thus I pray for thee. 

I THINK OF THEE. 
A Soldier to His Wife. 
(Fact.) 

[The war of '6i forms no pleasing subject of retrospection to the 
Southern mind. The incidents connected with it as embraced in 
the following poems may. however, serve to awaken reminiscences 
rather amusing than painful.] 

At morn, when the drum beats reveille. 
And Sergeants bawl, "Fall in Company," 
And marred sleep's sweet tfanquillity, 

I think of thee. 

As in "the line" I fall, stretch, and gape. 
And muse on the pleasant morning nap 
Broken by warm kiss or gentle tap, 

I think of thee. 

When I sit down to my soldier's fare, 
And no bright face to the board repair. 
To serve up with taste, arrange with care, 

I think of thee. 
-.22 si 



338 Poems. 

When the tough unlarded bread I eat, 

And fancy beguiles with vision sweet 
, Of fat biscuits, broiled fowl, juicy meat, 

' Then think I of thee- 

When pants are rent — and a button's gone 
And one's to mend — the other sew on — 
As with needle sharp I pierce the bone, 

I think of thee- 

When on straw-couch, I recline my head, 
And miss soft embrace of snowy bed 
By loving wife for spouse kindly spread, 

I think of thee. 

When yielding to sleep's opiate charm, 

I'm elbowed ,by some messmate's stalwart foi'm, 

I sigh for thy soft entwining arm — 

I think of thee. 



THE WAR OF 1861. 



[The following poem was written in the fall of '61, during a cam- 
paign in West Virginia. The fulfillment of the results of the war 
as depicted at that early stage gives the lines their interest.] 

What a harvest of ill ! what a harvest qf woe ! 
What a dreary harvest for man this war will sow ! 
How many hearts will it cause to languish and pine, 
How many brows with dark cypress will entwine. 
How many hearthstones will it make desolate. 
How many forms don with weeds of widowhood's estate, 
How many fond dreams of happiness will it mar, 
Never more to be relumed by Hope's bright star. 

War is an evil, the source of bitterest woe ; 

What a harvest of ill for man grim war doth sow; 

The poet of its glories may proudly tell, 

As triumphs of heroes the chords of his lyre swell ; 

It may be nobler in manhood in battle to fall. 

Than sink in peace under disease's ignoble pall, 

Yet war is an evil, the source of bitterest woe; 

What a dreary harvest for man grim war doth sow ! 

What a harvest unto death will this war lend. 

As fever, pain, and famine dire its steps attend, 

And human hate to its utmost spleen gives vent, 

Prepares each engine of destruction art can invent, 

And earth becomes like some grim idol of yore, 

With its altars heaped with slain, its lips smeared with gore* 



Poems. 339 

What a harvest of ill ! what a harvest of woe ! 
What a bloody harvest for man this war will sow. 

What a harvest of legislators there will rise, 

Who will seem as Lyciirgus learned, as Solon wise ; 

Each has stood by his country in her hour of fate, 

As peace now smiles they should guide the helm of state; 

Not of skill or talent will they boast or display, 

But the seamed scars of Manassas' bloody day. 

What a harvest of ill ! what a harvest ■ of woe ! 

What a dreary harvest for the world grim war doth sow. 

What a harvest of paper, if not of gold. 

Will it sow for the minions who office will hold ; 

Fraud, corruption, will batten in each cell. 

And leave of honor and honesty the empty shell ; 

New gains the greedy capitalist will reap. 

As the distresses of the land but augment his heap, 

Now is the time the golden harvest to mow. 

When war its varied harvest doth sow. 

And will it be the harvest of ill? 

Will not Thou, oh God, from it some blessing distil? 

Shall not there spring a more vigorous shoot 

Of human liberty — the crown — the fruit? 

Shall not the people subdued by the chastening rod, 

As a nation confess Thou alone art God ? 

In Thy name find strength— in Thy law find rest, 

In Thine approving smile alone supremely blest? 



ROMANCE OF THE TIMES. 

Novel-readers oft with regretful sigh 
Yearn for those by-gone days when chivalry 
Imbued each scene of life with sweet romance. 
And crowned the world with brightest radiance. 
As adventurous knights on prancing steeds. 
They'd roam the world in quest of noble deeds. 
Or in baronial hall, in time of peace. 
Recline at Beauty's feet, or sport at ease, 
As lady fair in the latticed bower, 
With the lute's soft notes beguiles the hour; 
Or on palfrey borne, with escort of page, 
Or gay esquire, in sylvan chase engage. 
And stir, with mingled note of hound and horn. 
The silver echoes of the mellow morn ; 
Or when sports of a milder mood invite. 
The hooded falcon loose, and urge its flight 
On soaring wing, its quarry to purstie, 



340 Poems. 

And strike from airy height the wild curlew, 
Thus glory in action should be their theme, 
And love in time of leisure crown their dream. 

Ah ! well may these novel-fed minds exclaim, 
None now care for deeds of chivalric fame ; 
Torn's their bright tracery from life's gay page 
By ruthless hand of a prosaic age. 
Gunpowder now with its villainous smell, 
The whistling shrapnel and loud-bursting shell, 
The Minie with its long dastardly range, 
In lusty feats of arms, have wrought a change. 
And left no scope for prowess to display 
In single combat or battle affray; 
Even hinds play not bout at quarter staff, 
But Colt's revolvers, now champions gaff, 
The world responds not now to any glow, 
Save that embraced in the phrase, cui iwno? 
Measured is each deed in dollars and cents. 
Not as of old, by knightly recompense, 
- The valiant arm, the spirit brave and bold. 

Now vilely strikes and toils for sordid gold. 
The price of cotton, the rents of the field. 
What profits each sphere of trade will yield, 
Are questions which alone men's minds engage 
In this strong utilitarian age. 
Calmly the eye each enterprise surveys, 
And estimates its glory by what it pays. 
Man's become a calculating machine. 
Strives tor fame in political chicane; 
Romantic passion is view^ed as a dream. 
Or else becomes a mercenary scheme. 
O hapless fate, to novel-fed minds I 
They now must drudge in life as common hinds; 
Appollo's sun-bright coursers of the air 
Debased, dray-cart to draw and yoke to bear. 

Age of Chivalry ! Blithe days of Romance ! 

Of steel-clad warrior, conquering lance I 

Of gleaming casque and the emblazon'd shield 

Of warlike glory and the tilted field ! 

Rich flow'ring time of gentle courtesie! 

Of brave exploit and graceful idlesse! 

Romantic days of love and glamourie! 

Of palmer's tale and minstrel's roundelay! 

A gorgeous pageant indeed was thine. 

If real thy glories as i' the past they shine! 

Who has not yielded in some joyful hour 

To thy siren spell, thy beguiling power, 

And with ravished fancy has traced the page 



Poems. 

Which tells the story of that golden age, 
When thy influence gently swayed mankind, 
Their souls exalted, their manners refined? 
How upon the vision swells the bright display 
That adorned the tournament's proud array, 
The open lists, the trumpet's thrilling blast, 
The breathless silence, the warder's baton cast, 
The rushing shock of mail-clad knight and steed, 
The loud acclaim that marked the noble deed, 
The victor-chaplet won from crowning hand, 
Of the chosen Queen of bright Beauty's band. I 

How often has the heart been made to glow 

With tale of knight captive to Paynim foe 

In the tar foreign land of Palestine, 

And as immured in prison cell to pine, 

He bids carrier dove his pledge to bear 

Of constancy and love to lady fair. 

How gorgeous the scenes that to fancy rise, 

Of Christian host beneath Syrian skies. 

In battle's fierce array on burning sands, 

To win Holy Sepulcher from pagan hands. 

Nov/ the battle rages, now its fury's spent, 

Now triumphs the Cross and now the Crescent, 

How charms that myth of superstition's brain, 

That tells of blithe Titania's fairy train, 

As oft to the eye of the vulgar seen 

In mazy dance upon the starlit green ; 

Now upon mortals sportive tricks to play, 

Now to glide upon the moon's silver ray, 

Or upon eye of maiden flow'r to press. 

Which love excites in the passionate breast. 

Delighted we read of merry Sherwood, 

The brave exploits achieved by Robin Hood, 

As he succors those whom foul wrongs oppress, 

Or bids some sleek friar his sins confess. 

And makes him with just desert to restore 

The unrighteous gains he'd wrenched from the poor. 

Mail-clad knights, the tourney's martial array 

No more are seen ; nor minstrel's roundelay, 

Nor gray palmer's story, nor loud wassail, 

Now in banqueting hall the ear assail, 

My .s of the past, bold Robin and his men, 

No more the by-path or sequestered glen. 

Nor now in flower-cups do fairies dwell. 

Nor elfin tricks play, nor weave the love-spell. 

Set is the star that shone on Knighthood's breast; 

On time's horizon ne'er will gleam its crest; 

The glory that encircled its gav plume 

Has faded fore'er into oblivion's gloom ; 



341 



342 Poems. 

O'er the mingled scenes in fists and hall, 
Death has drawn fore'er its enshrouding pall. 
But should we desire those days to return, 
As their scenes on fancy reflected burn? 
Knighthood with its vows erst bless'd mankind 
As it with courtesy their souls refined; 
Yet cruelty oft its escutcheon stained, 
Nor always wrong redressed or right maintained. 
That faith which for the Cross drew shining blade 
And with hot zeal impelled to fierce Crusade, 
Was with deep ignorance mixed and combined 
With grossest license in the chivalric mind. 
And rest on priestly absolution given 
The pardon of crime, the hope of heaven. 
The lordly castle, the antique tower, 
Were oft the strongholds of despot's power; 
Nor should we regret that in ruins seen 
The ivy w'eaves o'er them its mantle green. 

Breathes the spell of chivalry and romance 

Alone around the shield, the casque and lance? 

The ancient coat of mail may rust in gloom 

And time its splendors tarnish or consume; 

The silver-crested shield and steel-ribbed casque 

Win only antiquary in his task ; 

With these moldcring relics of the dead, 

Should we presume chivalric spirit fled? 

What tho' mankind may now their limbs enwrap 

In cloth of the softest woof and silky nap. 

And Beebe's moleskin famed of inky sheen 

Protects the head instead of steely screen ; 

What tho' for jewel'd sword swung by the side, 

Ratan now adorns the hand with polish'd pride; 

May not as manly spirit rule the breast 

As when Knighthood Vv-aved its gorgeous crest? 

What tho' the sign-board that hangs o'er the way 

May proudly on its white surface display 

The scissors chosen as his cognisance, 

The thimble his helmet — needle his lance. 

For those weapons his ancestors did wield, 

In bloody strife on ancient Flodden field. 

Is Jamie Scott less versed in manly lore 

Than his ancestors were in days of yore? 

And should he not receive the same esteem 

Though garments of men he may fitly seam? 

They with the swords men's bodies hew'd and rent, 

He in men's breeches only makes the tpnt. 

.Should not the world ♦o Howard honor yield. 

Though he should ploughshare grasp for the shield, 

And dailv earn the bread in sweat of brow 



Poems. 343 

Which his high-born race won by spear and bow? 
Naught avails in this money-making age. 
To proudly boast of highest lineage ; 
Let famed ancestral blood flow in full pride, 
Its pure current will no more good betide 
Than it were muddy stream from yon green moat, 
If you have no funds — are not worth a groat. 
Why should not Romance in spirit still breathe 
And o'er life's living scenes its splendors wreathe? 
Do not love, joy, sorrow yet thrill the soul, 
In chequered scene meet on life's shifting scroll? 
Do not the hours, with shuttle swiftly sped, 
In web of time still weave their changeful thread? 
Does not nature her robe of beauty wear. 
Bloom not the flowers as serenely fair? 
Does not the sun its morning splendor shed, 
Wrap not as gorgeous hues its evening bed? 
Wears not night as radiant coronet 
As when Romeo wooed fair Juliet? 
Do not the stars from their blue sphere above 
As brightly beam and whisper still of love. 
And still conspire to weave their mystic spell. 
O'er tryst of moustached gent and modern belle. 
Though plain saloon instead of greenwood tree 
Their unromantic trysting-place may be? 
Let romantic minds sigh for greenwood bower 
And starlit scene, as love's blissful place and hour. 
Oh! who would not with wiser taste prefer 
To breathe the wjiispered vow in Beauty's ear, 
As she, bedecked with silks, jewels, and laces. 
And witchery of late Parisian graces. 
In gayly attired saloon reigns supreme. 
Whilst brightly from gilded ceiline stream 
The silvery rays of light from kerosene, 
Or gas, beauty shedding of softest sheen? 
Then to know with papa's will, your suit is paid 
Who has your prospects scann'd — your purse has weigh' d. 
If there is bliss in passion — romance in love, 
'Tis here the heart the ecstasy may prove. 
Then modern etiquette with prudish sense 
Deems the lonely tryst as a grave offense. 
Put now there's not in love that hindrance 
That erst to it gave zest of sweet romance ; 
To charm its course now runs with too smooth stream. 
Let him. who thus of modern courtship deem. 
From fashion's dizzy heights, "The Upper-Ten," 
Some millionaire's daughter attempt to win. 
Though wit, grace, moral worth their charms may lend. 
Unless Wall Street stocks may his suit commend, 
He seeks in vain to win — as vainly far — 



344 Poems. 

To lead from its azure throne yon bright star. 
The course of love has not become so squared 
In modern age to prevent luck ill-starred, 
Nor high-born lady and love-smitten swain 
(n the past may of blighted hopes complain. 

Does not woman possess as glowing charms. 
As when made the prize of passage-at-arms? 
Is she not still sweet volume of romance, 
Which modern culture serves but to enhance? 
Romantic is she — and ever has been — 
In every phase of life and every scene. 
Romantic as schoolgirl in white pinafore. 
With lesson to con and text to explore. 
Romantic is she, lovely to behold. 
As she sports eyes of blue or curls of gold. 
Romantic when with eyes and tresses bright, 
That orb the shades and wear the hues of night.. 
Romantic is she when maiden in bow'r 
She love ditties sings to beguile the hour. 
Romantic is she when seen at the bridal, 
As she dwells in cot or reigns in proud hall. 
Romantic when, with copy of herself, 
She lends to time in merry little elf. 
Romantic is she viewed as Egypt's queen. 
Or shepherdess in dance upon the green- 
Romantic, when, with jewels and laces, 
She adds to Beauty Parisian graces. 
Romantic clad in serge or silken gown, 
As sweet bonnie lass or belle of the town. 
Romantic when in cottage or palace, 
With loveliness wreathed or has a plain face. 
Romantic when she spreads like a balloon. 
Or with change of fashion wanes like the moon. 
Romantic is she as widow in weeds. 
When o'er buried love her heart still bleeds. 
Romantic is she in midst of housewife's cares. 
And very useful when she food prepares. 
Unromantic is she when she lists to assume, 
Like Turk of the East, the Bloomer costume. 
False Knight is he, and recreant to love, 
Who will not with honor her claims thus prove. 
But there is no scope for her to display 
The daring deed as sung in minstrel lay. 
Like Joan d'Arc, deliverer of France, 
Who bade warlike hosts to vict'ry advance ; 
Or Penthesilea, Amazon queen. 
Who girding on armor of glittering sheen, 
And fiercely grasping dart and crescent shield, 
Raged in fight around old Troy's battle-field- 



Poems. 345 

Is there no chance left in the present day 
For woman the part of heroine to display? 
Behold ! brave Dickson, Gushing and Lucy Stone 
Leave not heroism to the past alone. 
Their souls with towering ambition disdain 
The servile pursuits of the conmion train. 
Let others choose to fill home's quiet sphere, 
They will carve in life the lofty career, 
In broad arena the exploits achieve, 

Which for their brows fame's green shamrock will weave;. 
To win for their sex political franchise 
Is the cause that nerves them to high emprize. 
Armed with effrontery's brazen coat of mail, 
No gazing throng their dauntless spirits quail. 
The shafts of ridicule, though sharp and fierce, 
Fail the weak points of their armor to pierce, 
Brandishing the tongue, the shrew's potent lance. 
They undismayed to the combat advance. 
Religion, morals, their sex may oppose, 
They cower not to such pygmean foes. 
Nor mouth will they close, nor place tongue in rest^ 
Until victory won shall their cause invest. 
No longer shall it be their menial fate 
To drudge for man in hymeneal state- 
Florence Nightingale may in task delight 
In ministering to woe as angel of light. 
And Heaven on the deed benison pronounce. 
They do such drudgery forever renounce ; 
For them the nobler task is assigned, 
To aid the world with potent strength of mind. 
To steer the nroud ship of State clear of rocks,. 
And live to bless the world through ballot box. 
Ah ! to win woman's favoring smile and glance. 
None now will couch the spear or shiver lance. 
And like mail-clad kinghts by brave actions prove 
Their rightful claim to woman's heart and love. 
Sir Knight of Love now has a harder task 
Than to buckle on armor, sword or casque. 
And on listed field martial deed perform. 
As in his bosom glows love fierce and warm. 
See him Pegasus mount, that steed of yore. 
With ardent zeal the Muse's haunts to explore. 
What curvctings of thought ! what toil of brain ! 
In the task he tmdergoes— oft in vain — 
That he may cull poetic tribute meet 
To lay in homage at fair lady's feet. 
How many times he the fierce gauntlet runs 
Of those pointed spears — pesky tradesmen's duns. 
That he may with fine suit his form encase 



34^ Poems. 

And conquer his way to the loved one's grace. 

How many days of penance will he pass 

In arts of toilet, still before the glass, 

To give his well-oiled hair the graceful curl, 

And to moustache impart a fiercer twirl ; 

To poise his cane, to tie on his cravat, 

To languish his eye, tilt his glossy hat. 

That he may be with grace in motion blent, 

From boot to hat love's star of tournament. 

With what fervent warmth his devoirs he pays 

To the female throng, as on Sabbath days 

With stately bearing he treads the church's aisle 

And seeks to gain bright Beauty's blissful smile ; 

Or devoted escort will nightly go 

To rout, to plays, to ball or other show. 

The present age no vestige may retain 

Of tournament sung in troubadour's strain ; 

It still exults in sports of noblest kind, 

In trials of wit, the contest of mind. 

See where yon Hall of Justice proudly stands, 

And to forensic strife its lists expands. 

Behold ! the Knights of the Green Bag convene. 

All worshipful in wit. merit and mien ; 

Some tall, some spare, and some as Falstaff round; 

Some lately dubbed in Law. young cavaliers. 

Who jostle bravely 'mong their fogy peers. 

And long for occasion them to afford 

A chance in suit "to flash their maiden sword." 

Full-arm'd with codes of Chitty and Blackstone, 

And weapons all to legal warfare known. 

See them in squads, or twos, parade the scene, 

Incased in suits of cloth of glossy sheen. 

The voice of Sheriff rings upon the air, 

And bids champions for the lists prepare — 

Those who wish in legal tilt snear to break, 

To come into court and their places take ; 

Then strike on the ear with ominous sound. 

And fill with gaping awe the crowd around. 

Rustling of papers, clattering of tongues. 

The op'ning of books and clearing of lungs, 

A pause for Judge as warder to decide 

The champions to plead — case to be tried. 

Now their devoirs as knights of old they pay, 

Not to ranks of beauty in proud array, 

Unless Astrsra is deemed to preside 

O'er the scene, in grave Judge nersonified ; 

For smiles of the fair, "fat fee?" as their meed 

Inspire them to perform the doughty deed. 

The signal given — the onset is begun — 



Poems. 347 

Each champion gauntlet alternate run. 

The trenchant argument they briskly wield, 

The weaker points now with sophistry shield. 

Now with well-couched law they seek foe to press, 

And now they turn his Honor to address ; 

Now they scan their client's up-peering face, 

And then return with fresh zeal to the case; 

Now they swell their voice to loudest strain, 

To give antagonist the coup de main ; 

Until from sheer exhaustion forced to yield, 

To Judge and Jury they leave the field. 

O Greece ! it may've been glorious to see 

In gymnastic games thy brave Athletse, 

With muscular limbs and deftly trained hands, 

Contend for the palm on Olympic sands. 

O Chivalry ! it may have thrilled to behold 

Thy knights in armor all-gleaming with gold, 

On careering steeds to comljat advance. 

And in the fierce joust shiver the strong lance. 

How nobler are the feats of mental might, 

With which this ason of mind greets the sight, 

When stately Chappell, as armed cap-a-pie 

In all of Law's defensive panoply. 

Is seen to cope in legal strife with foe. 

With logic's strong mace deal gigantic blow, 

Or on imagination's wing career. 

And sweep in gallant tilt forensic sphere. 

Or when Walter T. Colquitt the field of debate essays, 

And potent skill in argument displays. 

Or with humor blithe, or sarcastic tongue. 

Excites at will, to mirth the listening throng. 

If with the oast not worthv to enroll 

There are in the.=e feats the thought to console. 

No stout limbs are cloven, no skulls are crashed — 

Though justice may be stayed, indictments squashed; 

No blood is spilt, no bodies hewed and blent, 

Though well-lined purses oft with gaps are rent; 

At close when Sheriff makes the roll-call, 

It is found there's only been after all, 

A ranting of voices, a clashing of tongues, 

A grating of ears, a puffing of lungs. 

Nor chivalric displays in lists of mind 
To Knights of the Legal Craft are confin'd. 
There are those to which other ranks belong, 
Whose doughty fears attract the poet's song. 
Lo ! at the wave of fancy's magic wand, 
Behold uprise the Editorial band ; 
Knights of the Pen, cavaliers of the Press, 
Pledg'd truth to defend, error to redress. 



348 Poems. 

By party pride or rancor often sway'd, 
See them the public arena invade. 
Many-handed as giant Briareus, 
Their weapons of warfare are various ; 
Argument, gasconade, slang, fierce abuse, 
They in political tilt freely use. 
Self-dubb'd, oh ! how these knights of the Pen. 
Rush with hot haste into the wordy din. 
They speak oracular as Pagan god, 
As they mount editorial tripod. 
Each rank asserts they only can devise 
Those public measures equal, just, and wise, 
Which will alone secure the nation's weal, 
And all moral and social evils heal. 
True sentinels they boast themselves to be 
That stand on watch-tower of Liberty, 
And with prescient wisdom can descry 
Each dim portent of political sky. 
Should the nation heed their voice as they rave,. 
Tho' Rome the cackling of geese once did save? 
Their wordy conflicts oft exemplify 
That tale of olden days of chivalry. 
Of the Knights who of shield they might behold,. 
One vowed it was silver, the other gold ; 
Each with pride their opinion to maintain. 
In battle fought until they both were slain ; 
Their lifes in foolish combat they did risk — 
The shield possessed both gold and silver disk. 
The strifes of tongues do not like those of yore 
With corses heap the field, or stain with gore. 
When many miles divide the warring twain, 
Harmless must fall the pellets of their brain, 
Nor leave any trace of batter'd eye 
Save that of argument knocked up in pi. 
Oh ! that this was the only record made 
Of the strifes in which the Press are array'd. 
Alas ! this land has sad lesson to teach 
Of the wild and uncurb'd license of speech. 
Behold ! yon Temple, that in grandeur shone. 
Its pillars rent, its pristine beauty gone; 
Tho' lit up with glory's lingering smile. 
It wears but semblance of its once proud pile. 
Who like Erostratus, with direful hand 
Cast into this temple the flaming brand? 
Who with the bitter, burning speech of tongue 
Inflam'd the South with madden'd sense of wrong. 
And urg'd the North with conscious might of force 
To press to bloodshed its fanatic course? 
And between those wrought internecine strife, 
Who from same dug drew Freedom's breath of life^ 



Poems. 349 

And same childhood of a glorious past, 

Its golden links of union strong had cast- 

The Press the imputation may disclaim, 

Fills it not Erostratus' niche in fame? 

Thou wild, unrestrain'd license of the Press ! 

The boast of this age of Freedom's progress ! 

The South, at least, has bitter cause to rue 

The doom thy frenzy wild upon her drew ; 

Which placed her neck beneath the foot of foe 

Whose cruel spleen knows naught of pity's glow. 

Oh ! how its minions as hyenas rave 

O'er South entomb'd in political grave; 

Or vilely rend her body as it lies, 

Lest from death-slumber -the giant should rise. 

As smitten in the greenness of her years, 

Who sheds not for the South woe's deepest tears? 

What foe but one o'er her disgrace and fall 
Would not draw memory's forgetful pall .'' 
Oh! my country! upon thy night of gloom 
Arise there no star of hope to illume? 

He who would now thy name m song embalm. 

And wreathe thy brow with honor's fadeless palm, 

As he thy horoscope of fate would turn. 
Thy ashes deem with phenix life to burn. 

Oh' Freedom, diadem'd with thirteen stars. 

€ome thou as erst, to break her prison bars ; 

Stay thou with the grasp of thine iron hand 

The fury of the legislative band, 

That in puissant might of conqueror 

O'er prostrate South holds the rod of terror. 

Ye Knighthood of the Press ! the pen you sway, 

May to that joyful era carve the way; 

'Tis mightier than sword warriors wield, 

And vainly error will oppose his shield, 

If truth and reason calm, its strokes shall guide, 

And coiirtly grace shall o'er the Press preside. 

•Scourge from the ranks the politician's hacks. 

The tools of power, the slaves of greenbacks ; 

The bright spurs of honor, hew from their heel, 

And let them the base doom of mmions feel. 

-Where are the stars, plumes, titles, might one say, 

That marked with splendor chivalry's array? 

This land for civil equality renown'd 

With these features of pageantry is crown d. 

The present e'en in its heraldic dow'r 

Vies with the past in its full pride and pow r. 

Not by hereditary right restrain'd. 

Nor rarely by plebeian merit obtain d. 

Titles in thick profusion bestud the land 



350 Poems. 

Like stars, Milky Way or Orion's band. 

Each aspirant may a title possess 

To swell his merit, adorn his address. 

Can }-ou in art tiddle-bow deftly use, 

Or with sleight-of-hand show the crowd amuse, 

With Professor, title of classic grace, 

You may your name pompously preface. 

Should you choose military epithet, 

Tho' you may have never worn epaulette. 

You may Captain dub yourself, or Colonel, 

With its stitif, formal, curt, abrasive swell. 

In this land which holds men equal and free, 

This penchant prevails to that degree. 

In vagaries of modern etiquette, 

Lawyers are dubbed with soldier's sobriquet; 

Tho' they've not fought on fields with carnage rife 

Nor serried ranks led to deadly strife. 

Their waving plume in the van flashing far. 

Mid storm of battle, glory's guiding star, 

Naught of conflict have they seen save debate, 

Why then thus titled it is hard to state. 

Unless perchance they use their tonsucs so well, 

For preeminence they are called Colonel. 

Nor scan we this enlighten'd age in vain, 
For arts of glamour, superstition's train. 
Which romantic minds fondly deem to cast 
Fnamoring spell o'er the gloaming past. 
They who practise them, chill not with terror 
As Macbeth's queen or the Witch of Endor; 
Or ride as others on broomsticks i' the air. 
Or with necromantic art charms prepare, 
Or curse pronounce, that like dark ban of fate 
Wither souls and bodies of those they hate. 
No ! rap 1 rap ! rap ! on table, floor or wall — 
Lo ! the spirits throng — 'tis their signal call. 
And medium, as Mercury's gloomy wand. 
From realms unseen evokes the ghostly band. 
But they weave not their spells of witchery, 
Through aid of cloven-footed Majesty. 
As Morse's wires they but conquer time and space, 
; Features of absent friends discern and trace, 

Or kindly converse hold with spirit-band, 
And messages transmit from imseen land. 
Though revelations the}' make, full of awe. 
Still not obnoxious to old witches' law. 
'N'et in those days of New England's rigor. 
They'd not have escaped its code of terror, 
Nor medium deem'd mere automaton, 
That moves only as it is moved upon. 



Poems. 351 

In sports of archery upon the green. 
The lusty yeomanry not now are seen, 
Who boasted in the quiver which they wore 
Twelve Scotsmen's lives they at their girdle bore; 
Yet none may find lack of sports in this age 
Worthy the manly spirit to engage. 
Mount thy steed snorting in his mettled pride, 
With faithful rifle girded to thy side. 
And the tangled lasso with its airy throw, 
And subtle coil, lashed to thy saddle bow. 
Seek the West, where prairies spread to the eye 
With boundless sweep, 'neath cerulean sky, 
And opens theater, beautiful and grand, 
As e'er to daring spirits did expand. 
Hark ! what sound like deep thunder's distant roll, 
Strikes upon the ear, and startles the soul ? 
On nearer it comes, and with trembling dread 
The ground shakes as to earthquake's rocking tread. 
Behold ! the buffalo sweep o'er the plain 
In surging tide, like billows of the main. 
Seek you now in fierce combat to engage 
The ponderous brutes whose eyes flash with rage, 
Look well to yourself — look well to your steed, 
C i nerve and thought you'll stand in utmost need. 
Does the heart burn in gallant strife to cope 
With human foe — here too lies ample scope. 
See yon mounted troop that dots the far plain, 
Prairies' wild cavaliers, its roving train, 
Trimm'd.in war's grim and fantastic array. 
On they come bearing down upon their prey 
With circhng swoop and sneed as bird on wing. 
To engird their foe with the hostile ring. 
He who meets in conflict the fierce Comanche 
Will surely need utmost skill, courage stanch. 

Tho' the age only to those schemes responds 
Which promise an increase of lands or bonds. 
Yet it can boast of de-eds of daring done. 
Which for the actors brightest fame have won. 
None nobler wrought than upon ocean's realm 
By fliosc who spread the sail or steer the helm — 
As they braved the storm, drifted to the breeze. 
In torrid clime or the South'.s milder seas. 
Or ventured the "Northwest Passage" to find, 
They have display'd still, the heroic mind. 
See Kane as he feels sympathetic glow 
To relieve the pangs of another's woe. 
Or his bosom burns with heroism fraught. 
Or glows with spark from science' altar caught. 
Resolve, the perilous ta-^k to assume 



352 Poems. 

To pierce Hyperborean tracts of gloom. 
And happily burst the adamantine zone 
Which nature round Arctic seas has thrown. 
See him undismay'd his course still pursue 
Though the scenes that successive to view 
Grim as Alps' wild wastes of glaciers expand, 
And dangers dire gird him on every hand. 
Now drifting icebergs anon loom to sight 
Bearing down with their dread and noiseless might, 
A slowly-moving fleet whose battle brunt 
No iron-clad navy of earth might confront. 
Now locked in fast embrace of icy plains 
Whilst o'er the scene darkness terrific reigns ; 
Now booming crash of the loud-bursting floe 
.A.ppals the soul as ocean's knell of woe, 
Whilst Northern lights flashing in splendor wild, 
Reveals masses of ice in ruins piled; 
Nor ceases he, until toil and danger past, 
His weary ships their joyful anchors cast. 
And triumphant float on that placid sea, 
The farthest bound of Arctic mystery. 
Let days of ancient fable loudly boast 
Of Argo, that sailed from Thessaly's coast. 
By Jason led. with chivalry of Greece 
O'er the Euxine in quest of Golden Fleece, 
As gleaming in tradition,'s twilight haze 
Glory may invest it with lustrous rays. 
Let Medieval age proudly tell 
Of him whose genius burst the mystic spell 
Which superstition had for ages placed. 
And girded the Atlantic's stormy waste ; 
Undaunted by dangers that loom'd to view, 
The storm-toss'd billows and mutinous crew, 
He onward pressed till a new world arose 
And o'er the eyes its rapt enchantment throws. 
Let Fame list the Genoese thus to enroll 
Highest upon its illustrious scroll. 
Who thus fulfilled the dream of ancient sage 
Whose prophetic ken foresaw in coming age 
'Ocean would unloose to man its secret bands 
And disclose to his wond'ring gaze new lands. 
"Upon loftiest arch of its proud fane 
Glory still may carve the exploit of Kane. 

Still nobler lists in life's brave tournament 
The busy scenes of this stirring age present; 
Nobler than from chivalric days portray'd ; 
In them gallant spirits are now array'd ; 
"No brazen trumpets their entre proclaim, 
"No herald recounts their virtues and fame. 



Poems. 353 

No gazing throng with loud plaudits approve 
Their deeds of daring, their kind works of love. 
Save those to Faith's mystic eye is given 
In "cloud of witnesses" that lean from Heav'n; 
No chaplet is wreath'd to reward their strife, 
Except that hope awaits in crown of life. 
Silent, untiring, their course they pursue, 
The good of man, glory of God in view. 
The world's benefactors, they humbly strive 
To bless with good the age in which they live. 
Brave Templars, knighted at science' altar, 
Who girded with Truth's flaming scimetar, 
Have gone forth, resolved the work to pursue, 
With toil of mind Nature's realms to subdue. 
Until each element as vassal meet, 
Shall pour its hidden blessings at man's feet. 
True Knights of the Cross, valiant and bold, 
In panoply wrought in Heaven's own mold, 
With Faith as their shield — word of God their lance. 
With the banner of Christ as they advance, 
Their bosoms burn with zeal to overthrow 
The dark hosts of Hell — man's myriad foe. 
On, on speed ye, as dread angels of light, 
To chase from the world the demons of night. 
How vain that dreaming spirits then should yearn 
For by-gone days of chivalry to return. 
This age now so rife with thrilling events, 
Still to heroic minds the chance presents, 
To win for itself honor and renown 
Far brighter than the tourney's fading crown. 
It was the custom erst of ancient knight, 
As host to perform the courteous rite — 
When those whom he had feasted in hall 
Bid adieu, for the stirrup-cup to call. 
And, as it was placed to the lips of guest, 
The benison of his journey express. 
Now for each of those, whom in the Muse's bow'«- 
We have sought to regale for one brief hour, 
As we have evoked before them to pass. 
In dim reflection from weird's fancy glass, 
The pictur'd scenes of chivalric arena 
In bright and varied panorama. 
We would for them joyous blessing bespeak, 
As we call for cup foaming to the beak. 
Kind Reader ! that thou mayst thy path adorn. 
As belted 'Knight of the Cross he thou sworn; 
With its weapons divine engird thy soul, 
Then with honor wilt thou come to life's goal. 
And when Death, dread herald, on thee shall call 
-23 Si 



354 Poems. 

To hang up thy arms in his silent hall, 
Pavilioned in life's lists as a conqueror, 
The summons will not be doom of terror, 
i ■ But only translate thee to God above, 

i To receive crown of life, thy meed of love. 



TRANSLATIONS. 



THE DYING FLOWER. 

(Translation from the German of Freidrich Ruckert.) 
[This poem consists of a dialogue between the poet or some other 
person and a dying flower, in which at first the repinings of the 
latter at her cruel fate, which would presently doom her to an- 
nihilation, and at last her resignation and grateful ac- 
knowledgment of all she had received from the great Source 
of terrestrial light and life, are most beautifully delineated. 
Ruckert has justlv acquired a very high reputation as a lyric 
poet, and this piece may serve as a pretty fair specimen of his 
style and genius.] 

Hope ! thou wilt yet survive to see 

Spring come to gladden hill and vale. 
Is there not hope to every tree 

Stripped of its leaves by autumn's gale? 
They hope through winter's dreary reign 

In the calm vigor of their gems, 
Until their sap flows up again, 

And a new verdure crowns their stems. 

Alas ! I am no tree that grows 

And lives a thousand summers through ; 
When broken its dream of repose, 

A vernal poem weaves anew. 
Alas ! I am only a flower, 

By kiss of May waked into bloom, 
Of which no trace is left the hour 

It falls into its snow-dug tomb. 

Since thou art only a flower, 

Comfort thyself. O modest mind. 
Is there not a full rich dower 

Of seeds that bloom to thep assigned? 
Never mind if the storm of death 

Thy life-dust now shall widely strew; 



Poems. 355 



Thou wilt from that dust as life-breath 
Thyself a hundred times renew. 

Yes. other flowers like to me, 

Will come to deck the vernal scene; 
It is the One doth cease to be, 

The race remains forever green. 
If to them I my being give, 

Then I exist myself no more; 
Now only do I really live, 

Not after this, nor heretofore. 

Though the sun's bright glance did warm me 

And through me flashes yet its light; 
It soothes not still my destiny. 

Which dooms me to death's disrtial night. 
Yes, O Sun. in my crimson pride 

Thou didst view me with ogling look; 
Why from the clouds thou dost deride, 

And thy cold scorn I now must brook? 

Woe is me that I did rely 

On thee, when waken'd by thy ray ; 
That I looked in thy burning eye, 

Since thou didst steal my life away. 
I will myself in self enwrap. 

And fold my petals o'er my heart, 
Nor to thy pity leave this scrap 

Of fading life, but hence depart. 

Thou wilt melt with thy fervid beam 

The ice of my rage into tears; 
Take my life, fleeting as a dream, 

To dwell amid the upper spheres. 
Yes, from out my soul thou wilt sun 

My grief, and teach me to forget. 
For all this for me thou hast done, 

Now dying, I would thank thee yet; 

For breezes, which at morn did rise 

And through the summer fanned my cheek; 
For flights of all the butterflies 

On gay wing floating, did me seek; 
For eyes which did my tints admire, 

For hearts which my odors drank, 
For fragrant lips and rich attire ; 

For all this, thee to-day I thank. 

In thy wide realm it was my doom 
To be an ornament obscure, 



356 



Poems. 



As placed in the broad field to bloom 
Like star upon the higher floor. 

One more breath still before I die ; 
It shall be without sigh or pain ; 

One more glance to Heaven on high. 
One more to the bright world again. 

O Sun ! from thee I being drew, 
Receive now my expiring breath, 

O Heaven ! stretch thy tent of blue, 
My faded one sinks now in death. 

Spring! blessed be thy joyous light! 

O Breeze! bless'd be thy morning strain! 

1 sink! I sink ! In death's dark night, 
Without the hope to rise again. 



MIGNON. 

A Song. 

(Translation from the German of Goethe.) 

tMignon is one of tht^ most interesting characters in Goethe's 
Wilhelm Meister. In her earliest childhood she was secretly car- 
ried ofif from her home in Italy by a company of strolling jugglers 
and trained to perform feats on the rope, etc- Meister. who one day 
happened to witness the performance of this troupe, during which 
the child was unmercifully abused, obtained possession of her and 
T)ecame her protector. One morning he was surprised to find her 
before his door singing the following song to a cithern which 
accidentally had fallen into her hands- On finishing her song for 
the second time, she stood silent for a moment, looked keenly at 
Wilhelm, and asked him: "'Know'st thou the land?" "It must be 
Italy, said Wilhelm (the history of the child was as yet a mystery to 
him). Where didst thou get the little song?" "Italy," said Mignon 
with an earnest air. "If you go to Italy, take me along with thee, 
for I am too cold here." "Hast thou been there already, little 
dear?" said Wilhelm- But the child was silent, and nothing more 
could be got out of her.] 

Know'st thou the land where the citrons bloom. 
And golden fruits shine through the dusky gloom ? 
Where the wind from the blue sky softly blows 
And the proud laurel with the myrtle grows ^ 
Know'st thou it? O, my friend, there! oh, there! 
I now would go with thee, nor linger here. 

Know'st thou the house with its stately halls 
Adorned with pictures hung upon the walls? 



Poems. 3C7 

The marble statues seem to look at me, 
And ask, "Poor child, what have they done to thee?" 
Know'st thou it? O beloved one, there! oh, there! 
I now would go with thee nor linger here- 

i 
Know'st thou the mountain with mist-crown'd road, 
Along which plods the mule with weary load? 
In caverns where the dragons rear their brood, 
And torrent o'er cliff pours its leaping flood. 
Know'st thou it? O my Father, there! oh, there I 
I now would go with thee, nor linger here. 



MY FATHERLAND. 

(Translation from the German of Carl Theodore Korner.) 

[The author of this spirited poem could wield the sword and 
touch the lyre equally well. He took an active part in the wars 
against Napoleon, and was once severely wounded, and finally, 
when yet a young man, lost his life in the cause of his Fatherland. 
Many of his best lyrical productions are patriotic or martial, all 
of them breathing the same enthusiastic love for freedom and his 
country.] 

Where is the minstrel's Fatherland? 
Where sparks of noble spirits flew, 
Where crowns for the beautiful grew. 
Where stout hearts for all that is true 
Enkindled as a flaming brand, 

There was niy Fatherland ! 

How called the minstrel's Fatherland? 

It weeps now o'er its brave sons slain. 

It weeps now under strangers' reign ; 

Once "land of Oaks," in herald's strain, 

The free land, the German land ! 
So was called my Fatherland ! 

Why weeps the minstrel's Fatherland ? 

That before tempest of tyrant proud, '^ 

With cringing knee, its princes bowed. 
And broke each sacred promise vowed, 
And its cries no hearing command. 

Therefore weeps my Fatherland ! 

Whom calls the minstrel's Fatherland? 
It calls on the mute Gods alone 
In desperation's thunder tone, . 



358 Poems. 

On freedom, each patriot son, 
On retribution's vengeful hand. 
On them calls my Fatherland ! 

What would the minstrel's Fatherland? 
It would crush out the servile train, 
The bloodhound chase from its domain, 
And make its free sons free again, 
Or bed them free beneath the sand. 

That would my Fatherland ! 

And hopes the minstrel's Fatherland? 
Upon its just cause it relies. 
It hopes its people will arise, 
It hopes for vengeance of the skies 
Dispensed by the Almighty Hand, 

For this hopes my Fatherland! 



THE MINSTREL'S CURSE. 
A Ballad. 

(From the German of Ludwig Uhland.) 

There stood in olden time a castle high and grand. 
It shone afar to the blue sea that rimmed the land; 
Around it was a wreath of blooming gardens gay. 
Where fountains in rainbow splendor cast up their spray. 

There sat a monarch rich in lands and honors proud ; 
He sat upon a throne with mien like wrathful cloud; 
Terror was his thought, and rage the glance of his eye: 
A scourge each word, each stroke of his pen doomed to die- 
Once to this castle went a noble singing-pair ; 
The one with golden locks, the other gray of hair; 
The elder with harp, rode on a nimble steed, 
Whilst his companion strode along with youthful speed. 

The sire to the younger said: "Be prepared, my son;" 
Think of your deepest lays, stir up each fullest tone. 
Call up the strains of joy or woe that deeply thrill; 
The stony heart of the king must yield to our skill." 

They stood within the hall that rose with pillared pride; 
On a throne sat the king with the queen by his side; 
The king in fearful splendor as red northern light, 
The queen sweet and mild as appears full moon at night.' 

The gray-haired struck his harp and as its chords resound 
On the ear in rich, deep volume of tinkling soimd ; 



Poems. 359 

"Like muffled tones of spirit-chorus flowed his song, 

And mingled with the voice of the youth clear and strong. 

They sang of spring and love, and of the golden time 
Of freedom, valor, truth, and life unstained with crime ; 
They sang of hopes and dreams that thrill the hearts of men, 
And virtues that excite honor's bright crown to win. 

The courtly throne in ecstasy bowed to God, 
Forgotten their scorn and fear of the tyrant's rod ; 
The queen, as sadness and pleasure her bosom fill. 
Threw down a rose, as reward of the minstrel's skill. 

The king, when he beheld the minstrels' songs subdue 
His court and queen, in angry mood the youth he slew ; 
From whose breast pierced with sword instead of dulcet strains 
Of song, gushed forth the purple current of his veins. 

'The listening throng scattered, as dust before the blast; 
"The master, when in his arms the youth breathed his last, 
Placed him erect in mantle wrapped upon his steed. 
Then frotn the castle went with sorrow-laden speed. 

The gray-haired minstrel paused before the lofty door. 
He grasped his harp, most prized of all his earthly store. 
And dashed against the marble column it he broke. 
"Whilst garden and hall rang with the dread words he spoke. 

■"Woe to thee, proud Hall ! never more may the sweet strain 
Of music or song through thy chambers resound again ; 
But only sighs, and groans, and steps of timid slave, 
XJntil Fate shall crush thee to decay's mould'ring grave. 

"Woe to ye, gardens ! that now bloom in May's sweet light, 
I will show to you the death thy beauty will blight ; 
That ye may wither, as you behold your fountains dry. 
And ye in future days, sin-cursed, desolate lie. 

'Woe, thou tyrant ! cursed by all of the minstrel name. 
In vain shalt thou strive for wreaths of bloody fame ; — 
Thy name forgotten, to oblivion consigned, 
Be like a dying groan lost on the passing wind." 

The gray-haired minstrel cried and just Heaven did hear. 
The castle walls are lying low, in ruins drear; 
One column stands as vestige of its vanished glory; 
It now rent, will soon cease to tell the sad story. 

Where stood the blooming gardens is now heather land; 
No tree or fountain decks the barren waste of sand ; 
No song or hero-book tells the name of the king ; 
'Such fearful doom did the curse of the minstrel bring. 



360 Poems. 

the shepherd's hymn 

(From the German of Ludwig Uhland.) 

It is the Sabbath of the Lord, 
1 am alone upon the wide plain. 

One morning-bell more strikes its chord, 
Then far and near doth stillness reign. 

I bow the knee in fervent prayer, 
O dread and rapture that I feel ! 

There is no voice upon the air. 
Yet with a throng unseen I kneel. 

The sky spreads out serene and clear, 
And holds with earth such sweet accord, 

It seems that Heaven opens near, 
It is the Sabbath of the Lord. 



FARpWELL TO LIFE. 

Sonnet. 
(From the German of Theodore Korner.) 

[When severely wounded, lying in a forest, helpless and in ex- 
pectation of death.] 

The wounds burn ; the lips tremble white in death — 
I feel, as the pulse of life feebly plays, 
Here I stand on the margin of my days : 

God, as thou will'stl To thee give I *ny breath. 

To me in life what golden visions came ; 

How changed the dream into a death-lament ; 

Courage ! Courage ! What here I loved intent,. 
Must yonder surely live with me the same. 

■'" And that I sacred held, as from above. 

Which did my soul to youthful ardor move^ 
Whether it is called Liberty or Love. 

Before me stands bright seraph from the sky-, 

As now my senses, slowly fading, die ; 

One breath wafts me to rosy morn on high. 



Poems. 361: 



THE INVISIBLE ONE. 
(From the German of Ludwig Uhland.) 

Thou whom we seek on mystic patlis to trace, 
Whom our searching thoughts fail to comprehend, 
Thou from thy holy seat didst once descend 

To earth, to meet thy people face to face. 

What bliss, thine image to stamp on one's mind. 
And hear the words of thy lips flow so sweet! 
O happy they who sat with thee at meat ! 

O happy he who on thy breast rechned ! 

It was no strange desire, as told in tale, 
When thousands of pilgrims from land set sail, 
And fought on foreign shore, clad in mail. 
That at the tomb where once thy body lay. 
With deep devotion they might bow and pray, 
And where trod thy feet kiss the holy clay. 



THE RESURRECTION. 

(From the German of Novalis.) 

Among a thousand hours in life. 
That I have found with pleasure r.fe, 

But one to me did true abide ; 
One that, amid a thousand throes 
To me in heart, it did disclose 

Who it was that for tis hath died. 

My world to me was desolate, 
As if by a worm perforate ; 

The bud and blossom withered were, 
My whole of life in this you have; 
My wishes all were in the grave, 

And to my grief, I still was here. 

Thereupon, I in secret pined, 
And ever wept the way to find ; 

Did but from fright and fancy stay. 
But suddenly, as from on high, 
The stone that on the grave did lie, 

By hand unseen was rolled away. 

Whom I saw. and what he did grasp 
In his hand, let none seek to ask, 



362 Poems. 

I grew immortal, this but seen. 
Of all the hours in life's brief round, 
Will but that one, as does my wound, 

Remain ever clear and serene. 



THE TRAMP. 



Outcast! the world calls him a tramp; 

All alone, the man stands there ; 
The night is stormy, chill and damp ; 

Sad his heart, and lone and drear. 

In loving sympathy each star 
Calls to him. each flower near; 

"Look not sorrowing ofl: afar ; 
Us, O man, dost thou hear?" 

He bows in spirit, soft and low, 
Earth and heaven on him press ; 

In tears that warm and gushing flow, 
Love relieves his deep distress. 

Now the north wind lays waste the green, 
And the flow'rets fade to dust ; 

The staff on which he is wont to lean 
In the earth he plants with trust. 

Beneath the starry host he stands 
And looks up with hope renewed ; 

The tender flower now expands 
From the staff of sterile wood. 

Those who had his companions been. 
Flee from him in his distress ; 

To share his troubles none are seen ; 
Age on him like ice doth press. 

In restless mood he seeks the hold 
Where stood once his cradle sweet; 

To him the place is strange and cold. 
None extend the hand to greet. 

Now with confiding trust, once more 
He looks up to starlit sphere : 

"My youth," he cried, "comes not as yore, 
Complete is my career. 

"Much does grim time dissolve to dust; 
Not all hopes of earthly mold; 



Poems. 3^3 



There is One I believe and trust. 
Him unseen the stars behold-" 

"Believe can I, can trust, can hope; 

In darkness the light I greet; 
And I see heaven then to ope, 

When my heart shall cease to beat- 



THE YOUTH. 
An Ode. 
. (From the German of Klopstock.) 
[The month of May is personified by a young man, as represent- 
ative of the springtime of life.] 

With mute glance, May saw in the silver brook, 
Mirrored his wreath-encircled, waving lock; 
Like the east ruddy was his crown the while ; 
He beheld himself, and did softly smile. 
The storm raged, and the mountain echoes wake; 
The ash, the fir, the oak, now bend and break; 
With the cliiT from the mountain's trembling head, 
The maple from its lofty height is sped. 

May tranquil, now by the brook falls asleep, 
And lets the thunderstorm rage loud and deep; 

There he lurked and slept, by the blossoms fanned, 
And woke when Hesperus rose o'er the land. 

Youth! naught has thou felt of misery. 
Like the Graces life now smiles upon ihee. , 
Up and equip; with wisdom be arrayed. 
For soon to thee, soon the flower will fade. 

THE TWO MUSES. 
An Ode. 
(From the German of Klopstock.) 

1 saw, O tell me, saw I what yet shall happ'n? 
Did I'descrv the future? With Britannia's 
Saw I in rival match Deutschland's Muse 
Fly eager to the crowning goal. 

The two goals bordered far as glanced the eye 
Along the listed field. The forest oak 
Shaded the one ; near to the other goal 
Palm trees rustled in the evening twilight. 

She from Albion, inured to the race, 
Proudly entered the lists, just as she came, 



364 Poems. 

When erewhile she met on hot arena 
Maeonian muse, or her from the Capitol.* 

She saw the youthful, trembling champion ; 
Still this one trembled, valorous and strong; 
Worthy to conquer ; crimson overspread 
Her burning cheek ; and waved her golden hair. 

Already she in wildly throbbing breast 

Held tight her breath, and leaned forward intent 

Upon the goal ; already the herald raised 

The trumpet, and her eyes swam with delight. 

Proud of her daring, prouder of herself. 
The lofty Britoness with sharp look scanned 
Thyself, Thuiskouet: "Yes, near the Bard, 
I grew up with thee in the grove of oak." 

"The rumor came to me thou wert no more; 
Forgive, O Muse, when thou art immortal; 
Forgive, that I learned it not until now ; 
Still at the goal only will I learn it. 

"There it stands. Seest thou the farther one, 
And its crown also. The serene courage. 
The proud silence, the glance which fiery 
Casts itself to the earth, I know them. 

"Still weigh this danger to thee yet once more 
Before the herald sounds. Did not I run 
The course with the one from ThermopyljePt 
And with the grand one from the Seven Hills ?"t 

She spoke. The stern, decisive moment came. 
The herald drawing nearer. "I love thee!" 
With flaming look Teutona quickly spoke. 
"I love thee, Britoness, with admiration 

"Still not warmer than immortality 
And yonder palms; if thy genius prompts it, 
Touch them before me; if thou seizest them, 
I will then seize at once the crown also. 

"How I tremble! O immortality! 
Perchance I first shall reach the lofty goal ; 



♦Maeonia was one of the countries which claimed to be the birth- 
place of Homer — i. e., the Roman. 

tThiiiskoup. Teutona, appellations of the German muse. 
^Circumlocution for ihe Grecian and Roman muses. 



Poems. 365 

Then, O then, mayest thou with fervid breath, 
Breathe upon my loosely-streaming tresses." 

The herald sounds. They fly with eagle speed 

The wide career smoked up like clouds. 

I saw ; past the oak billowed were they ' 

In distant dust, and then were lost to sight. 



EARLY POEMS. 



ADDRESS OF MAY-DAY QUEEN. 

'This crown, rich with odorous gems of Spring, 
I receive from you, love's pure offering ; 
And tribute to me, chosen Queen of May, 
From sister flowers on this festal day. 
With grace and pleasure more, it shall be worn. 
Than jeweled crown that monarch's brow adorn. 
To all we now our sovereign will proclaim, 
An edict issue in our royal name, 
That our subjects now shall all unite 
To celebrate this day with joyous rite. 
Let not discord with her hideous mien, 
Cast a shadow upon the festal scene ; 
Let not sorrow come with its gloomy trace 
To darken the soul and make sad the face ; 
But over all let mirth now reign supreme. 
And life this May-day be one rosy dream. 

Dear Friends: 

Well may we with rejoicing greet the day 

That ushers in the smiling month of May; 

It heralds to earth the reign of the flowers. 

That came to gladden this dark world of ours. 

"How bright the mission they fulfill to earth : 

They praise the Great Being that gave them birth ; 

Lessons of meekness and love they impart 

And whisper of hope to the desolate heart; 

In the chamber of sorrow they appear, 

Their leaves impearled with affection's warm tear; 

They hush the sad moaning and pain 

And restore to the cheek its bright blush again." 

jDear S. S. Sisters : 

We, too, mav be flowers in human life, 
Relieving its woes and calming its strife. 
Our claim to be such we shall rightly pfove 
By deeds of kindness and sweet words of love, 
.And thus in our office as sister, fri«nd, 



366 



Poems. 



To life a gracious charm we shall e'er lend. 
Thus may each one blossom in earth's Springtime 
And when removed to Heaven's stormless clime, 
"May vou flower afresh like Aaron's rod 
That bloomed and budded in the sight of God." 



THE ADDRESS OF FLORA OF A MAY-DAY 
CELEBRATION. 
At an Examination in the School in Which She Was a Pupil. 

Erst awhile we met in sylvan bower, 

To greet with festive rite and joyous strain 
The month that breaks winter's spell and power, 

And ushers in Spring's soft and balmy reign ; 
To deck with wreath and crown with garland green. 

As Flora and her train bright homage pay 
To the fair Myth — the "rosy-footed" Queen — 

Who presides over the sunny hours of- May. 

Nozv, to no such rites we your thoughts demand ; 

May's bright scepter glowing June has taken; 
Vanished are Flora and her fairy band 

Till Spring the fair flowers shall waken. 
To-day, we meet 'neath Science' honored shrine, 

To-day. its graver rites our service claim ; 
Oh ! 'tis Science that gives man art divine, 

The guerdon of power — the wreath of fame. 

Ever at its altar should woman stand. 

And there libations pour and garlands twine. 
With the ceaseless zeal of the virgin band 

That watched o'er ancient Vesta's sacred shrine. 
On woman's sphere it shed its cheering ray, 

As winter's fetters in the vernal light, 
The bondage of ages melted away 

Which made her life, her existence, a blight. 

The "Rose," the "Lily," and their sister band, 

In mingled beauty, here will softly glow, 
But not to tell how at Spring's command. 

Their germs they shoot, and their bright blossoms blow. 
No ! erst they lisped the language of flowers ; 

To-day they the fruits of science hither bear 
And blossoms of knowledge, through vernal hours 

That they have been gath'ring with toil and care. 

Ah ! is it wearisome — a senseless show — 
Quite a trying ordeal to go through, 



Poems. 367 



To see girls skill in numbers deftly show, 
To listen to them decline I or you. 

Tell where rivers run, islands stud the deep, 
Or that the world is round, is proven true? 

In this summertime, to inspire sleep, 

The gods could not distil a heavier dew. 



LINES. 

To One Who Said: "There Is No Love Save in Homb 

Affections." 

Say you — no love the human heart to sway 
But that o'er "home affections" sheds its ray, 
And a poet's dream, and a fiction gay. 

Is the passion called Love? 

What language may the heart more fitly frame 
For that passion which, as an electric flame, 
Thrills from the eyes and makes two hearts the same. 
Than that of Love? 

When in mutual bosoms a feeling glows, 
That bliss through ev'ry emotion pours. 
And sweet enchantment o'er the being throws, 
Would you not call this Love? 

The spirit which young ambition arrays 
In glory's lists, and to gain the loved one's praise 
Excites to win the laurel, the scholar's bays. 
Is not this inspiration Love? 

When death bereaves fond lovers of their mate, 
Feelings of joy no more their hearts elate, 
But they sink beneath this dire stroke of fate, 
Is not this devotion Love? 

The fervent wish will e'er arise for thee. 
That when you learn, it may e'er sweetly be 
Of the fond bliss, and not the misery, 
Of the passion called Love. 

May it be with you at the marriage shrine, 
And with flowers the sacred bands entwine, 
And aye give to thee the raptures divine 
Of the brightest glow of Love. 

And when life has run its golden round. 
And thy fair form shall sleep beneath the ground, 
Mayst thou with the love of Him be crowned, 
Who all in all is Love. 



-368 Poems. 



AN ACROSTIC. 

As the flower that opens serenely fair, 
Nurtur'd by gentle dews and balmy air, 
Naught of envious blight to mar its grace ; — 
Thus, do I wish that thou, a human flow'r, 
Just budding in life's gay and sunlit bow'r, 
On through thy circle of years may bloom, 
Hallowed by hope and free of blight and gloom. 
Nor this alone — but when death's with'ring hand 
Shall pluck thee from earth and thy sister-band, 
Oh ! may it be to transplant thee from time 
Newly to bloom in Heaven's cloudless clime. 



A VALENTINE TO MISS MARY S. COLQUITT. 

(My Betrothed.) 

-Love demands the votive chaplet I should twine. 
And render homage due to his sacred shrine; 
^His enrapturing fire my bosom warms, 
And with poetic thought my mind informs. 
For whom shall I the tender passion breathe? 
'For whom the bright and blooming garland wreathe; 
And in flowing numbers whose praise enshrine. 
And confess as my chosen Valentine? 

From the circle where beauty softly blooms 
In forms as varied as bright Spring assumes; 
Where the fair grace that in the lily glows. 
And the soft splendor that infolds the rose, 
;Now kindle the heart with admiration, 
Or thrill it with love's delicious passion. 
'With faith pure as the flame of Vesta's shrine 
'Would I choose thee, a peerless Valentine. 

The soft light of beauty thy cheek may warm. 
Its plastic hand may touch with grace thy form, 
And rival in thee flower, gem or star ; 
"The light around thy heart" is lovelier far. 
•With stronger spell than beauty can impart 
It sways the deepest homage of the heart. 
For the spirit thy bosom doth enshrine, 
Would I this day choose thee my Valentine. 

"I would not choose thee only for this brief day, 
'jThat unto. love I may due homage pay. 



Poems. 369 

But whilst the golden sands of life may run. 
In heart united — in destiny one — 
With thee each checkered scene I would share ; 
Whate'er of joy and hope life perchance may bear, 
Through the term of years that fate may assign, 
Would I choose thee e'er as my Valentine. 
"Amator utque ad aras." 



\ POETICAL EPISTLE TO MRS. J. M. GREENE, ivis 
COLQUITT. 

Muse ! guardian of the tuneful lyre ; 
With inspiration now my mind inspire; 
Let my measured numbers sweetly flow, 
And every thought with interest glow; 
Crown with thy favor my poetic toil, 

That I may win my darling Mary's smile. 
When mere admiration would the strain inspire, 
My lips thou hast touched with hallowed fire. 
Oh ! now when love's true fires in the bosom glow 
Upon my verse thy brightest charm bestow. 

Carissima, the muse in formal style 

1 have invoked to aid me in the toil. 
Whilst I seek the poetic wreath to twine 
Sweet tribute to you from "the sacred Nine." 
What theme unsung shall I now essay? 

What pleasing thoughts shall my verse convey? 
Poets — new-fledged when first on soaring wing. 
Warble the praises of the blushing spring — 
The "emerald plain," the blooming bower, 
The murmuring brook, the opening flower, 
Glide and mingle e'er in the ceaseless strain. 
Unmarked — unblest with one joyous refrain. 
But in time's cycle the vernal season's past 
And upon the ear thrills Autumn's startling blast. 
Autumn too has been sung in pensive lay ; 
Be mine the task rather than portray 
To mark with wrapt spirit and eager eye 
Its mellow'd pomp, its cerulean sky, 
Its bright sunsets, its twilight's purple haze, 
The Sabbath stillness of its cloudless days, 
When the circling heaven beams with love, 
And earth holds voiceless worship of Him above. 
Fancy has ranged wide the realm of thought, 
For a theme in each nook and corner sought. 
No olive-leaf or blooming flower found, 
With sweet reward its circling flight has crown'd. 
-.24 s 1 



370 Poems. 

Did I now first feel love's thrilling pain, 
No poverty of themes I could complain. 
I could celebrate then, in glowing line, 
The circling graces that around you shine. 
The "magic power" to make hearts your own ; 
Or when favor was to a rival shown, 
In melancholy strain bewail the fate 
Of slighted passion — and heart desolate. 
But Hymen's ties our hearts in union bind 
And "mon cher amie" is loving and kind. 
I then can not sing of thy matchless charms 
Of slighted passion — and jealous alarms. 

While thus for a theme perplexed in thought 
Two letters from you the postman has brought- 
Now the snowy coverings are broken 
And out there falls a sweet love-token — 
"A violet" — none more sweet could be given; 
Its language's of faith — its hue of heaven. 
I accept the gift — "which fancy endears," — 
"Emblemi of love and hope through future years." 
Now with joyous spirit and eager haste. 
Each flowing line and page I fondly trace. 
What sweet talk of birds, sunshine and flower ! 
Surely you sat within the ''Muse's bower." 
Or Fancy with her fair urn "hover'd 'round" 
And with its blooming wealth your pages crowned. 
When you wrote. The secret is (as you state). 
You wrote with heart — with happiness elate. 
May your life be e'er thus free from care, 
Has been my fondest wish — my fervent prayer. 
'Tis vain — for such is life— and e'er has been. 
That clouds will oft darken the brightest scene. 
I can wish in the picture be so wrought 
Its shades of sorrow, its blendings of grief. 
That life may be with more pleasure fraught. 
Than if its roseate tints had no relief. 

But it does not within my power lie 
To each thought of yours in rhyme reply. 
No longer I may soar with wing' elate. 
But fall and meet Icarus's hapless fate, 
The ivy-wreath may not reward my toil. 
Content will I be to win your sweet smile. 



Poems. 2)1^ 



THE BIRCHEN SCEPTER; OR PEDAGOGUE RULE. 

The rod of birch, the smooth, well-seasoned spray. 

That girds the teacher with power to sway ; 

His scepter in the narrow realm of school, 

As used of old to scourge the vile and prod the dull, 

Be it my theme — as no unworthy meed 

Or type of praise to it should be decreed. 

No thing of art, or bright bauble of fame. 

Or object of nature, can justly claim 

That suffrage of place to it is assigned 

In the reminiscences of mankind. 

Who has not cring'd, as with threatening eye, 

The Master raised the waving rod on high ? 

Who has not felt, as strokes descending came. 

The birch had lost none of its ancient fame ? 

Men's views in life may be for good or ill— 

In taste, and in creeds, differ as they will. 

But one common chord you'll not fail to touch 

When you stir the memory of the birch. 

What influence ! what moral potency ! 
The Rod exerts on human destiny! 
A nation's weal, her glory or her shame, 
The arts that promote, or embalm the same ; 
The laws which bind, and social life sustain, 
Conspire to peace, or selfish strife restrain; 
The vices that curse, or the wealth that feeds. 
The virtues that prompt to heroic deeds; 
The genius that awakes the tuneful lyre. 
To melting tones of love, or martial fire; 
Or bids beauty and grace survive the tomb. 
And in the canvas' mimic life fore'er bloom; 
The manners that refine, adorn with grace. 
And mark the civiliz'd from the savage race ; 
All that trains to virtue— exalts to fame- 
May, from the Birchen Rod, their impress claim ; 
As it is rightly swayed, or misapplied, 
As learning is, or not, a people's pride. 
Thou City! by Ilissus' storied stream. 
Of Greece, the central light, the solar beam,— 
When conquer'd, and from thy proud glory hurled. 
The Delphic shrine of Learning to the world; — 
Ye streets where Socrates taught Athens' youth 
The force of virtue and the charm of truth ;— 
Ye Groves! where Plato talked with dulcet tongue 
Of the soul immortal, from Great Jove sprung, 
Living after death — would survive the grave — 
Some°fair isle, beyond Hesperian wave. 



372 Poems. 

The lost Atlantis, its sweet place of rest; — 

Thou City ! Streets ! Groves ! will ye not attest, 

The nobleness that I claim for my theme 

Is no idle fancy or sportive dream? 

Time-honor'd's the Rod- No monarch of earth, 

Though high his title and royal his birth, 

May boast a scepter more ancient to wield. 

Than tliaf to which schoolboys obeisance yield. 

The regal symbol which Agamemnon bore 

As Ruler of Achaia's hosts, in days of yore, 

May not a more remote origin claim, 

Or hath truer title to niche of fame. 

High honor, too, mankind to it have paid. 

In story of heroic time, 'tis said, 

When the Athenians yearly rites renewed 

To manes of Thesus, whom they'd endued 

With the radiant honors^ of the skies, 

To Corridas, they render'd sacrifice ; 

He, who their beloved monarch's youth had train'd, 

His soul to virtue nursed — from vice restrained. 

Such honors crown'd the Birch in classic age — 

Those now invite, inscribed on modern page. 

New England's race of early schoolmasters, 

Bebrycian type, first on the roll appears. 

Quixotes of Science, her knight-errant band. 

Inflamed with zeal to enlighten the land. 

As with chivalric glow their bosoms burn 

Letter'd case to win, or the penny turn. 

From Northern hill and vale they southward pour'd, 

Each district filled from mountain to seaboard. 

Of great learning, very spare — of stature high — 

With sturdy arm the Birchen Rod to ply, 

In log-house each set up pedagogue throne. 

Where to urchin brood, in clear nasal tone. 

Depths of Daybald and Dillsworth they'd expound, 

Simple lore by shallow wit made profound. 

In hives of Science then, there was no drone. 

If evinced by the hum of mingled tone. 

The melodious chant that smote the ear 

On summer morns when the day was bright and clear. 

Science then was wont with the charm of song, 

Up its rugg'd steeps to urge its dull troop along. 

Nor did Science then its oracles speak 

111 mystic tongue of Latin, French and Greek, 

With jargon its young votaries to confound; — 

Nor to slow-pac'd minds the problem propound. 

Whose mystcrv unsolved with fruitless search, 

Awakes the slumbering ire of the birch. 

To read, to write, to know Dillsworth "by heart," 



Poems. 373 

Be skill'd in figures, was consider'd ''smart." 
Aught they knew, or but lightly cared, I ween, 
For fount of Castalv or Hippocrene. 
Ye, who boast the culture of the present age, 
To whom knowledge unfolds its ampler page. 
Decked with richest spoils— ye may not deride 
Their meager attainments, w^ith scornful pride. 
From stately Latin or the fautless Greek, 
As models fair, untrained were they to speak. 
Yet, not devoid were they of eloquence. 
Tauo-ht by natural taste and common sense, 
Their speech could reason sway, judgment conynice, 
The will subdue, love's bosom with rapture thrill. 
As though they'd drank of Rome's classic rill, 
Or sweets of Greece's Hymcttian bees of song, 
Poured in language persuasive from their tongue. 
The hidden laws which Nature's realms control, 
Like Sybil's, inscribed upon mystic scroll. 
Might not be revealed to their mental gaze. 
In^the clear light of modern Science' rays, 
Yet they could feel the life divinely breathed, 
Which nature's various forms with beauty wreathed. 

Untaught whence the rainbow its splendors drew. 
They could still admire its arch of varied hue, 
And cherish with devotion true and warm 
The promise divine, couched in its bright form. 
Unskilled, the floral realm to classify. 
The wondrous forms it opens to the eye ;— 
What ray of light, reflected, paints each hue, 
Whence nightly flow the crystal streams of dew. 
They might not know; yet with no less delight 
They could behold the hawthorn's veil of white. 
The spotless grace that in the lily glows. 
The crimson splendor that infolds the rose. 
From fossil tablet, silent chronicle 
Of unrecorded time, they might not tell 
When yon mountain upheaved its vast form 
To catch the sunlight and to brave the storm; 
Yet not with, seliseless heart or listless eye 
They view it loom in grandeur to the sky. 
Now as contestants for pedagogue command, 
Erin's green Isle sends forth its stalwart band. 
The silver rills of England's classic speech 
They, from day to day. would distil, arid teach 
The learned Sciences then held high in vogue, ^ 
From lips all touched with the accents of brogue. 
The road to learnine— the path thev had trod— 
The surest way with them was through the rod ; 
//, as in poles of an electric way. 



374 Poems. 

Between brain and hand a mj'stic union lay, 
And each sharp stroke that with ferule was laid, 
To the mind, the desired impress conveyed. 

The record such — and such the worthy praise 
Of pedagogic rule, in earlier days, 
As from ancestral tradition we learn. 
But to its brighter annals we now turn. 
When forests were felled, and arts multiplied, 
And cities, rose from our soil in tow'ring pride. 
In time's cycle a happy change was wrought ; — 
An era dawned with true Science fraught, 
Whose meridian brightness we now greet. 
By Oconee's wave Learning founds her seat; 
Builds her altars and lights her vestal fire. 
Spreads her banquets and strings the classic lyre. 
Till Franklin, full develop'd, takes its stand. 
The peerless Parthenon of Southern land. 
Ancient Athens is again seen to rise. 
Reproduced 'neath fair Columbia's skies; 
The abode of learning, refinement, taste, 
With ev'ry charm of wealth and beauty grac'd. 
In each trait Athenianlike to a fault — 
E'eA its pride savors of the "Attic Salt." 

Thou Alma Mater! to memory dear, 

Shall no record of thy modest worth appear? 

What chaplets for thee shall affection twine? 

What just meed of praise should virtue assign 

To that seat where Science no longer ignores 

To sons of Poverty its priceless stores? 

But, with Godlike bounty, generous hand 

Opens to them the realms of classic land. 

Equal with Wealth's proud train to share the prize : 

Where Religion, blest daughter of the skies, 

In appropriate sphere, performs her part 

In molding the mind and training the heart ; 

Unseals to the soul the doom of the skies, 

And bids it nobly seek for a higher prize 

In life's brief career than riches or fame, 

Or all the fleeting pleasures earth can claim. 

O Emory ! onward thy course pursue, 

To duty's high behests still ever true ; 

For the mind still light Knowledge's vestal beam, 

And set the silver ladder of Jacob's dream. 

Still send forth with each year thy noble band, 

To scatter light, evangelize the land. 

Though stern fortune, as in the past, may frown. 

Fame yet for thee shall weave its triple crown; 

On thy walls will rest the dews of Zion, 

And the smiles of God thy path environ. 



Poems. 375 

"Science, elate, kindles its beacon-blaze, 
And from Penfield's site flames its lucid rays, 
Mercer rises its effulgence to shed, 
And form one of a glorious triad. 
Of learning a noble mint, that stamps its gold 
"With clear impress of true scholastic mold. 
Let Mercer her well-earned fame faithful guard — 
Alone when won, the honor'd meed award. 

With advancing science a new light springs, 
And o'er woman's sphere its radiance flings. 
"Like star of the east, its orient ray 
Heralds to female mind the dawning day. 
The charms of woman tribute of homage 
From mankind had won from earliest age. 
JHer softer nature was confessed to be 
Impressed with fairest seal of divinity. 
"Vet capricious, gloomy, her lot had been, 
"With scarce a ray of light to gild the scene. 
Each blighting trace of wrong and woe 
Mark'd her destiny in its changeful flow : 
"Now caress'd — now finder servitude's ban — 
An angel quite, but not the peer of man; 
Idol of his love, yet in wedded state 
Doom'd to the curse of a menial's fate. 
■Classic Greece, with each art and grace refined, 
Her adored in the marbled "Venu* enshrin'd; 
Incense burned — the soft libation pour'd — 
Yet her moral worth, her mental rights, ignor'd. 
In later aee, when the world felt the glow 
Of chivalry in its elevating flow. 
Troubadours, with "piping, poetising tongue," 
In gentle lay, the praises of woman sung ; 
Knighthood in its waving crest wore her gauge — 
"To manly breast, talisman of courage ; 
Exalted her, as Beauty's chosen Queen, 
To preside in the tourney's martial scene — 
To crown with chaplet, and bestow the meed 
On victorious knight for gallant deed. 
E'en then a menial bondage was her fate. 
Her powers of mind held in slavish state. 
From woes and wrongs endured through ages past, 
From Freedom's clime redemption comes at last. 
The South's gifted son, with eloquent tongue, 
Essays to plead her right, redress her wrong. 
He proclaims, to her should be assign'd 
The right to equal culture of the mind. 
■Religion urges, prompts the just appeal, 
And inspires in the cause a holy zeal. 
"The great moral, social truth once express'd. 



■^'jd Poems. 

It found a response'in each manly breast 
By Ocmulgee's tide, from Georgia's soil, 
The world's first female college rears its pile. 
And Learning opes to woman, as man's peer, 
The treasures of its once restricted sphere. 
To Georgia the tribute may be given, 
Woman's mental fetters to have riven. 
One female college scarce shot up its spires 
Ere others soon sprang up as beacon-fires, 
Or from Cadmean teeth the armed host, 
Until Georgia can its full measure boast. 
And girls can now in Virgil and Horace plod, 
Boast collegiate exemption from the rod. 
All the lore of science — its each franchise ; 
To the degree of A.M. can also rise, 
And proudly flourish the sheepskin parchment, 
That doubtful voucher of scholastic talent. 
Would you learn how, as Science' votaries, 
They win its triumphs and wear its trophies? 
Visit yon shrine, von decorated hall. 
Where, Olympiclike, they hold their festal. 
See the white-rolicd throng move upon the scene 
With pomp of music, banner's silken sheen. 
Vision of beauty, they rise tier 'bove tier. 
And in bright rank enchantingly appear 
Like flower-clad cliffs ot tropical skies. 
The fair cynosures of a thousand eyes. 
The young debutants proudly tread the stage — 
Alike imprcss'd, though wisdom of the sage 
And the lore of science they may display. 
Still in her charms lies the snell of woman's sway; 
Though of sparkling diamond may be the set. 
Of polished gold must be the coronet. 
"Beauty is vain," Solomon may have said. 
Yet they must please the eye to win the head. 
The modest essay, all flush'd with flower. 
Bespangled with stars, now claims the hour.- 
Then comes the speaker's panegyric stream ; 
Woman ever — woman is still the theme ! 
Diplomas are given — the farewell spoken — 
The parting- tear shed- — the spell is broken; 
The actors from the scene now disappear — 
From Science' proud halls to Home's quiet sphere 
Let not the bigot raise the mocking sneer. 
That in vapor ends the promised career 
Of educated woman. Science its dow'r 
Has not lavished for the pageant of an hour. 
Nor the work of cultur'd woman thus expires. 
What though from the public eye she retires. 
As the lost Pleiad, no more to return. 



Poems. 377 

And in Learning's galaxy resplendent burn, 
In the sweet home circle, that orbit bright. 
She still shines, dispensing heavenly light. 
In the varied office of sister, daughter, friend. 
To each her gifts brighter charms sweetly lend. 
As mother, she to the youthful heart 
Its principles of action doth impart. 
It goes out into the world's scenes of strife — 
It acts and reacts through the lapse of life; 
And when the future historian may scan 
With telescopic eye the past of man, ■ 
Of maternal impress he views the trace 
Displayed in the mold of the present race. 

O Empire State ! though nobly hast thou done 

For education, thy work's but begun. 

Press onward in thy glorious career ! 

Of thy sister States be the pioneer. 

The summits have caught the enlight'ning ray; 

Still o'er the valleys misty shadows play. 

There are still broad wastes where no flowers bloom — 

Thousands of noble minds, ignorance their doom. 

No longer dally in the noble cause. 

Nor waste thy zeal enacting futile laws. 

Which promise much — all that could be requir'd — 

But in their execution "null and void." 

With views nobly conceived and wisely planned, 

Dispense the light of knowledge o'er the land, 

Till there is no spot in thy broad domain 

Where ignorance broods with its lilighting train. 

Science and Art, each unfolding their store 

Of blessings, into thy bosom will pour 

A truer wealth than Spain's galleons bore 

From Mexan clime or Peru's golden shore. 

One has in verse the sentiment enshrined, 
"Delightful task to teach the infant mind." 
Ye who would prove this maxim false or true, 
Must for awhile the "pleasant task" pursue. 
Day after day the same path fore'er plod 
Which for years your weary feet have trod. 
With ceaseless effort strive to infix 
In infant mind the letters twenty-six. 
And find, after all your toil and trouble. 
They scarcely decrease — if they don't double. 
Yon rule for the twentieth time explain. 
And find it types the book, but not the brain. 
Have Cicero's bright wit and polished line. 
Which rescued Rome and banished Catilin". 
In senseless jargon patter on the ear, 



378 ~ Poems. 

Bereft of ev'ry charm that taste holds dear. 
Now, Horace a wondrous change undergoes : 
Not to the bird of song he did suppose 
Of plumage fair, with clarion note of swan, 
That would soar above the envy of man ; 
As dribbling schoolboy interprets his muse. 
It shakes the air with larums of a goose. 
Then to deal with tempers of every mold — 
The stubborn, the shrewd, the vile and the bold ; 
And if you the least impatience display, 
Unfit you are for the pedagogue sway ; 
Contend with ignorance in ev'ry shape. 
And hear complaints, whate'er pains you take. 
From parents who in the fondness of their hearts 
Deem their children possess'd of brightest parts. 
If any should confess, which is not usual, 
Their hopeful heirs are not intellectual, 
And that to learning they are not inclin'd, 
The teacher's skill must supply want of mind. 
"Learn their children must;" if they won't by dint 
Of persuasion — there's the birch, parents hint. 
Ah, the birch ! can it from stupid minds evoke 
Streams of intellect with its magic stroke. 
As prophet's rod from Horeb's flinty side 
For Israel's host poured the crystal tide? 
Sub rosa, — let the strokes lightly fall, 
If birch is used: best not use it at all, 
If you would please. Once not less absolute 
Than scepter of England's royal Canute 
Was the birch ; none then ventur'd to restrict 
Right of pedagogue punishment to inflict. 
Broken now is the fasces of command 
That girded with power the teacher's hand ; 
Gone the terrors that made the stoutest quail, 
And formed for parental ear pathetic tale ; 
No more will it blanch schoolboy's cheek with fear, 
Twinge with pain, or start the rolling tear. 

How oft restraints of the schoolroom become. 
As it were, the walls of a prison home. 
When Nature's freed from Winter's icy thrall. 
And holds in Spring her joyous carnival, 
On bright morns then, when to duty confin'd. 
How bitterly these restraints chafe the mind. 
The warbling throng may sing in tuneful strain. 
And beauty enamel the dreamy plain 
With its hue of green and tint of flower — 
The genial sun shed down its rich dower 
Of golden light ; but it is all in vain — 
You may not break duty's viewless chain. 



Poems. 379 

Flowers may bloom, but those on classic page 

Must now meet and admiring eye engage. 

The woodland poets may blitliefully sing 

The laureate ode to the gladsome Spring ; 

But song of Virgil, fair Mantua's pride. 

Drawled in spraddling meter by your side, 

Or lyric strain of him to Venusia dear, 

Must now claim from you the attentive ear. 

As pris'ner of Chillon thou truly art, 

That could gaze with loving eye and with lorn heart 

From dungeon cell upon the lake below. 

Or on mountain high with its sunlit glow, 

But on Leman's placid wave spread no sail, 

Nor mountain tread, nor inspiring breeze inhale. 

Then in summer days, when in noontide glow 
The sun shines upon the parch'd plains below ; 
When not a zephyr quivers 'mong the trees. 
And thermic tube notches ninety degrees ; 
When languor steals o'er and threatens to steep 
The brain in the opiate dews of sleep ; 
When the voice would its languid accents lose 
In deeper intonations of a snooze; 
When burdensome is each effort at speech, 
O, how bitter then is the task to teach ! 
But, through the half-closed curtains of the brain 
There come visions, as mirage of the plain. 
Of embower'd dell and murmuring stream 
Untouched by burning Summer's noontide beam ; 
And you would to fancy give the loose rein — 
Indulge in dreaming ; but 'tis all in vain. 
Each class must still the drowsy lesson rehearse. 
And to make the teacher's ordeal worse. 
There is a call for birchen justice due 
To some roguish imp of his maudlin crew. 
Who, with teasing wit which no langour shows, 
Has prick'd his neighbor or tickled his nose. 

The birch to its votaries has ever brought 
Burden of irksome toil and anxious thought. 
Tho' o'er the picture drawn dark shadows loom. 
Yet it is not one unbroken scene of gloom. 
There are pleasures to gild, and hopes to cheer 
E'en the pedagogue, in his humble sphere. 
He shuns the world's dark scenes of sordid strife, 
The pollutions that stain ambition's life. 
He moves amid a throng of faces bright 
With youth's soft bloom and joy's roseate light; 
Their sunny smiles, their joyous notes of mirth, 
Yet unsubdued by the sorrows of earth ; 



380 Poems. 

Their blithesome spirits, that breathe each joy out 

In the merry laugh or loud-ringing shout ; 

Will oft to the scene a bright glow impart, 

And sweetly soothe the teacher's care-worn heart. 

With softest tint of memory imbued, 

His own boyhood scenes rise to mind renewed. 

When he too was wont with buoyant heart, and free. 

To join in the playground's wild revelry. 

Again beneath youth's glowing skies he stands, 

Again with romantic dreams his heart expands. 

How it thrills with joy, when the Teacher's toil 

Meets with the reward of a grateful smile ; 

When youthful minds with eager zest pursue. 

And drink in knowledge, as flowers the dew ; 

When to a genial glow their souls are wrought. 

And eagerly embraced the abstruse thought ; 

When they, as you the classic text explain. 

The spirit catch of Virgil's epic strain, 

Or echo the notes of his rural quill 

With enthusiastic touch and gentle skill, 

That these fall upon the charmed ear 

As tuneful murmurings of brooklet clear ; 

When their bosoms burn with patriot glow 

O'er polished page of peerless Cicero; 

Or when with lively zest they explore 

The honeyed sweets of the mythic lore. 

Which lyric Horace, bright Matinian bee, 

Hath stored in fragrant cells of Poesy ; 

When tints, with success, the Teacher's toil's crown'd. 

No purer pleasure than his in life is found. 

Then vanish the cares — then dissolves the gloom, 

That makes the Teacher's lot a bitter doom. 

Feelings of joy serene pervade his soul, 

Wing'd with pleasure tlie fleeting moments roll, 

And when the circling hours their course have run. 

The heart almost regrets its task is done. 

Noble and honored the office they hold, 

Whose task it is the youthful mind to mold. 

Tho' oft with taunting epithet assailed, 

And the sentiment too long has prevailed, 

To Science' votaries it should be assigned. 

Who scorn not drudgery with ease combined ; 

Whose gross hearts cannot for dull brains conceix'e. 

The charm of those deeds which bright fame ac].\ ■-^. 

How unjust to the Teacher will appear. 

When are surve)fed the duties of his sphere. 

To au-ake genius to a conscious glow. 

To inspire the dull— -timely prompt the slow. 



Poems. 381 



To curb the vicious and the moral guard, 
Assign to modest worth its meet reward, 
And each perform with that consummate skill 
Which secures all good, yet works no ill, 
Claim for the task, and do surely evince 
Highest degree of mental excellence. 
What merit should in his character blend. 
Upon whom these varied duties depend ! 
What vast treasure of rich instructive lore 
Should fill the mind, increase the mental store 
Of him, who for youthful minds, food purveys, 
And would wisely guide them in Science' ways ! 
What glow of virtue should his soul inspire. 
Who'd kindle in other breasts the sacred fire ! 
What perfect knowledge of the human heart — 
Its springs of action — its every part, 
Till quiv'ring lip and flashing eye reveal 
Emotions the soul would in vain conceal ; 
That no harsh rebuke from the lips may spring, 
From tender natures the needb'sstear to wring, 
And wither, like a blight by mildew shed. 
The spirit which with kind words should be fed; 
That firmness with its gentle check may quell 
Passions that heave the breast with angry swell, 
Darken the eye, and fiercely knit the brow. 
And would convert life's cup to one of woe, 
Unless to wise restraint now made to 3aeld. 
Think of these duties — survey the broad field, — 
What other pursuits that worthy fame bestows 
Higher qualities than those can boast and show. 

The skill that from canvas wooes the eye 
With the pictured glories of earth and sky. 
Or carves from marble forms with beauty rife, 
That in grace and spirit they rival life. 
Is called divine. How then esteemed the Art 
Should be which molds the human mind and heart. 
And brighter creations from them evoke 
Than wrought by brush or chisel's magic stroke. 
Let ambition the humble station spurn 
For lists where daring spirits meet and burn 
As ancient wrestlers in the fierce contest 
For wealth's golden prize or fame's gilded crest- 
'"»'e pedagogues, still your office revere. 
Though irksome its duties — unfamed its sphere. 
AVisel}' sway ye the Rod. It is imbued 
With untold power for evil or good. 
When, with force of love and charm of Truth, 
To learning's heights it guides aspiring youth, 
'Tis rod of Hermes from which blossoms shoot. 



382 Poems. 

Or Aaron's, crowned with heaven-inspired fruit. 
When by cruel stroke and despotic force 
It urges youthful minds in Learning's course, 
'Tis fearful as Mercury's fabled wand, 
With which he erst compelled the ghostly band. 
When the young mind is led to Castalia's fount, 
Or has been taught golden gains to count. 
Deem not thy duty done — or task complete; 
Inspire a love of all that's true and great; 
Awaken aspirations that, like wings, 
Will bear the soul above all sordid things. 
In thy work engage with liveliest zeal, 
Tho' thankless the task you oft will feel. 
And the applause to young ambition dear 
May not crown with fame your toilsome career; 
Yet repine not — nor from thy duty swerve ; 
To each task your noblest energies nerve. 
Toil on, though Hope refuse its golden meed 
And on thy spirit care corroding feed. 
Expectant await your blest boon of love 
From the Great Taskmaster of men above. 



A RETROSPECT OF LIFE. 

The twilight of age gathers thick and fast. 
Time's latest sun with me erelong will set; 

Life's busy toils and duties now are past; 
The retrospect moves to joy and regret. 

As the vanished years pass in full survey, 
I feel how great the boon of life has been. 

And ponder how the burdens of the way 

I could have borne for threescore years and ten. 

Thou, O God, hast been my support and stay, 

Guard and guide through the lengthen'd chain of years. 

In youth's sweet morn and manhood's middle day, 
In sickness and in health, in joy and tears. 

It was of Thee that from a mother's tongue 
I learned to lisp thine own Eternal Name. 

As hymns of praise she at the cradle sung 
In accents sweet as seraph lips may frame. 

In youth's first hours when the desires impel 
And vice with siren voice and pleasing smiles 

Would weave for the soul its seductive spell. 
Thou didst preserve me from its fatal wiles. 



Poems. 383 

Thou didst to me the love of Christ reveal, 

Through faith in His name of sins forgiven, 
Thou didst upon my heart set Thy seal. 

The hope sublime of life in heaven. 

In gifts of fortune, neither broad estate 

Nor wealth of field and fold didst thou assign; 

Nor the behest of pow'r that crown the great, 
Nor the gold that in hoarded coffers shine. 

It was Thy grace upon me to bestow 

The genial sympathies and traits of mind, 
That lead the heart to feel another's woe, 

In charms of nature purest joy to find; 

And gather rich spoil from every page 

That in the countless volumes of learning lie; 

All the poet has sung, or spoke the sage, 
That lift the soul in dreams divine on high. 

Thou dost now upon me the grace bestow, 

The elixir of earthly bliss to find 
In health that fills the cheek with ruddy glow, 

And joys perennial of cultured mind. 

Oft when from ways of virtue I had strayed. 

And sought the path of dalliance to tread, 
Thy Spirit's touch was on me gently laid 

And back again oft I was sweetly led. 

She whom in wedlock to me Thou didst give, 

My other self, and my being to complete. 
And through all the years of time with me to live, 

Has been in joy and grief a true helpmeet. 

And now amidst the faded charms of age, 

Not less loved than when she at the altar stood, 

In holy troth heart and hand to engage, 
In the sweet morn of gentle womanhood. 

O God, to me Thou didst my being give, 

And from dark thrall of sin my soul redeem. 
That consecrate to Thee I should live, 

And Thy grace in me shine with focal beam. 

As planted in the garden of the Lord, 

In Christian life with heavenly grace endued. 

And spirit fed with ichor of his Word. 

In the calm light of age, I should have stood, 



384 Poems. 

As beauteous for the mind to behold, 

With fruits of righteousness richly crowned, 

As tree in autumn with its fruit of gold 
Or vine that with purple clusters abound. 

From the rich treasures of Thy grace how great 
The blessings Thou hast upon me bestowed. 

To Thee my life should have been consecrate, 
And at my Saviour's feet its ointment pour'd. 

As dawns upon the scene the goal now near, 

From Heavenly sphere the supernal ray, 
life's wasted opportunities appear, 

And duties that were slighted by the way. 

Ah ! sad the thought, my weary feet no more 
The way that I have come again shall pass, 
"Time will not to me the lost chance restore 
To speak the kind word, do the act of grace. 

In youth's bright morn begin to sow thy seed, 
At hour of vesper withhold not thy hand. 

Then when the harvest comes, many a deed 

In golden sheaves on life's fair field shall stand. 

What of my dream of letters that so long 
Has held me fetter'd in. its subtle coil? 

What is there save this book of prose and song 
As monument of many years of toil ? 

Infatuated dreamer ! canst thou hope 

The fabric you build of flowers will stand, 

'Like Afric Pyramid with lofty cope 

Amid the waste of years on Egypt's sand ? 

'Deep have I drunk of sorrow's bitter cup. 

The Old Cup that from Eden's tragic hour, 
Has pressed all mortal lips from Adam up, 

Bequeathed to the race as sin's fatal dower. 

As others, never did I realize 

The evanescent dreams of childhood's hour; 
The burning hopes that youthful bosoms prize, 

That tell of honor won, wealth and power. 

•Oft have I felt tlie anguish keen and deep 

Of fatal stroke that severs earthly ties, 

But they that die in Christ fall asleep, 

'To wake again immortal in the skies. 



POKMS. 

I have felt the deeper sorrows of the mind. 

That fade not from memory's mystic scroll, 
And solace seek in vain from earth to find; 

Like eating aspics they fasten in the soul. 

O alchemy of grace, so sweet, so full. 

That in the Gospel for the sinful flow. 
That makes the sins with crimson stain like wool 

Or those of scarlet hue as white as snow. 

O Saviour Divine ! grant me faith to prize 
The pow'r of Thy blood for sin to atone, 

And through the virtues of Thy sacrifice, 

Present me faultless before Thy pure Throne. 

THE END. 



385 



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